


Forsaken Legacy

by whimsofffate



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: (the slowest burn ever), Childhood Friends, F/M, Ganon will slice you if you insult Link, Happy Family, I just want the Triforce trio to be friends for once, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, Zelda tries to escape exercise, but he's not great about doing it and lands himself in trouble, give Link parents 2k17, i will add tags/characters as i update, insult Ganon? Link will DECK you, set a long time after Breath of the Wild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsofffate/pseuds/whimsofffate
Summary: The Hero of Legend. The Princess of Destiny. The Vessel of Darkness.For eons, the legend has run in this cycle, woven through time and bound by the strong threads of fate. In one era, the legend is rent to pieces and born anew: the cycle is shattered. In this era, the Triforce draws three individuals together once again.They do not plunge the world into darkness. Instead, they fight for its survival.(alternatively, the one where the Triforce Trio have some hilarious teenage shenanigans while on a Highly Important Royal Roadtrip)





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into what is yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! I recently finished Breath of the Wild, and boy... was I left with feelings or what? This idea has been stuck in my head for years, but it's only now that I've decided to put pen to paper and finally write the thing. I will try to update regularly (exams may get in the way of this) but for now, fasten your seatbelts - because this is going to be one hell of a ride.

The walls shuddered as cracks erupted through the stone, while the floor groaned beneath her boots as fissures rent the earth. Her feet thundered as she sprinted, and she desperately scanned her surroundings for any means of escape. There were none. Their only option was to force their way forward.  
  
The cowl of her cloak slipped as she turned to call her companion, revealing chopped blonde hair framing brighter green eyes. The rest was hidden by a mask of shadow and the three golden triangles which adorned her forehead.  
  
"Ganon!" she cried, swerving around fallen rocks. "How is he?"  
  
"Not in good shape!" Ganon shouted back. "He's barely conscious. We need to get him out, and soon!"  
  
The bundle groaned from where it lay in Ganon's arms, fitfully tossing to and fro, like a raging storm. Even from where she was, she could see that his breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and his eyes were clenched tight with pain. She spurred herself to move faster.  
  
The pair continued to flee, narrowly dodging the boulders raining from the ceiling. Parts of the wall had been devastated completely, Even as they ran, more rocks plummeted into the voids of emptiness left by the destruction.

She took the left corridor.  From the right, the sounds of low screeching were too prominent to be missed.  
  
There was no time to rest. The walls were close to caving in completely, and they could not afford to perish here. She'd be damned if she let her friends die. Especially not here - not when she had led them here herself.  
  
"There!" she gasped.  
  
Finally, after what had seemed like eons, they reached the end of the labyrinth. The marble archway was not even a few strides away. A wave of relief washed over her as she made a frantic rush for the gate; Ganon mirroring her movements from behind. It was possible, they were so close, if they got out of here now maybe they could reach the castle before nightfall-  
  
THUD.  
  
She stumbled to a halt. Her heart hammered in her chest, and threatened to burst.   
  
THUD.  
  
"Zelda," Ganon whispered, laying the other man gently behind a pillar, "it's coming from the entrance."  
  
THUD.  
  
She would not allow them to die here.  
  
Zelda knelt before the bundled figure and smoothed his hair back from his face, as he moaned pitifully under her touch.  
  
THUD.  
  
"Hold on just a little longer, Link. We'll get you out of here." she promised. Link blindly reached out for her as she straightened, and turned to face the beast.  
  
Zelda joined Ganon, reaching for her daggers as he grimly unsheathed his greatsword and settled into a defensive stance. She lifted her chin to stare determinedly into the shadows darkening around the door.  
  
SLAM!  
  
The gate was flung apart from the impact of the force, taking a huge slab of the wall with it as it hurtled through the air. A gargantuan, fleshy appendage obscured the hole, bulging and convulsing, like a beating heart outside of its cage. A layer of scale slid upwards, baring one blazing eye; the inferno of Hell itself.  
  
It scanned the hall, swivelling in its socket, before finally settling on her.


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link finds someone in the forest.

When Link had asked to explore the woods, he hadn’t expected to find a body there too.

Myrrha Village was beautiful, but absolutely tiny. A small settlement tucked away in the corner of Hyrule, it was often forgotten by travellers and merchants alike. It was a shame, because it was home to some of the clearest waters and encircled by some of the hugest mountains Link had ever seen - not that he’d seen many, but he knew enough from time spent in the Elder’s hut that Myrrha was special because of the amount of nature it boasted. The village was inhabited by a boisterous, jolly crowd of ranging ages; all tied together by a fondness of racing, drinking and laughter. The atmosphere was always lively, and he had nothing but warm memories of the place he was growing up in.

That being said, it _was_ absolutely tiny, so Miharia Forest had become far more appealing to Link once he had explored every inch of the lakes and mountains surrounding the village. It was only ten minutes away from his house, so his parents were far more agreeable when he had asked to spend some time there. It was definitely a better location than the shark-infested Miharian Sea; the sight of his father spluttering over a cup of tea and his mother thumping him on the back when he had asked to go _there_ still made him laugh at times.

However, Miharia Forest was not as safe as they thought it was if Link had managed to find a body in its dense thickets.

Dropping to his knees, he cautiously knelt closer to the cloaked figure. It looked like a boy, although his face was hidden by the hood, so it was hard to tell.

Link wondered whether he should try to wake him up. It wasn't the best place to take a nap, especially after the rumours flying around which talked of strange monsters waking in the dead of night. Dozens of villagers had talked of shadowy creatures that died as the sun peeked out from behind the horizon, but rose again once the moon reached its peak in the sky. Reports like these were becoming more common, and it was enough to make anyone nervous about leaving the village.

But here was a person _sleeping_ out in the wild? Was it right to leave him by himself?

Link pondered over his predicament for a little while longer, debating whether he should leave the boy to wake up in his own time, before deciding with a firm nod. His father would wake him up if he was there, if at least to warn him about the dangers in the night. If his father would do it, he would do it too.

Slowly, slower than a snail, he extended his hand and touched the cloth.

The arm twitched.

He staggered backwards, landing on his side and scrabbling to gain a purchase on the ground. The boy started to spasm, emanating a rattling groan which sent chills through Link’s spine.

He _definitely_ wasn't sleeping. He shifted and struggled, and the words which came next weren't difficult to make out.

"H-help... me... p-please..."

Link scrambled to his feet and bolted in the direction of the house.

As he sprinted, gasping and panting, a thousand questions assaulted his mind, likes flocks of birds tearing at crops in the fields. _Who was he? How did he end up in the middle of the forest? Why did he sound like he was going to die?_

_Should he have tried to wake him up sooner?_

He didn't bother knocking or announcing his presence, instead barging through the door and skidding to a halt in front of his alarmed parents.

"Link!" his father scolded, rising from his chair. "What are you doi-"

"Papa! There's a boy in the woods! I found him, but I think he's hurt - I thought he was sleeping but then he started to groan - please, we have to help him!"

His father stared at him, registering his words, before quickly striding to the hearth and hauling Grymhildr over his shoulder.

"Show me, Link," he told him, before turning to his mother, who had risen as well. "I'll be back soon, don't worry-"

"No." she finished for him. She crossed the room and lifted her cloak from the peg on the door, before fastening it around her neck and turning to him defiantly.

"Evy, if the boy's hurt, we don't know what's out there. You’ve heard what people have said, it could be dangerous!"

"It's dangerous, but Link's going?" she admonished gently, interrupting him as he opened his mouth to argue back. "I'm fully capable of defending myself, Cadmus, you know that. It's the child I'm concerned for. If he's hurt, I have to help him."

He tried again, but was cut short when Link urged him to hurry with a silent plea. "All right," he sighed, "just be careful."

She rolled her eyes and gave Link a slight smile, before taking his hand in her own warm one. They began to run.

* * *

 

The family soon reached the boy, with Link rushing forward to lead the way. His father nudged the boy onto his back, before slowly, carefully peeling away his hood. Link gasped at what he saw.

The boy had shorn crimson hair, dark skin and a soft round face with chubby cheeks – cheeks much like his own. However, it was marred with seething burns and glaring cuts which littered his skin like stretched cobwebs:  some paper thin, whereas others gaping wide and revealing patches of white. The horrible wounds travelled down his neck and disappeared under his shirt. His breathing was barely audible, and it was with a jolt that Link realised that his eyes had shut.

His mother wasted no time. She immediately began to wipe the cuts clean and applied what Link recognised as burn salve where she could, before uncorking a golden bottle and tipping the contents gently down his throat. The salve was mildly cooling, as he remembered from his escapade with the cooker last year; but would it be enough? In Link's case, his burns were mild; here, the boy had half of his skin flaking away...

His father hovered behind her, eyeing the trees warily, his sword held high and glinting against the evening sun. Link hopped from foot to foot, anxious and helpless. Feelings of sorrow rose up in him like vomit, cascading over him in terrible waves – the feeling that, if he was quicker, maybe he would be conscious, or at least a little better than he was right now. It was unbearable to watch: waiting to see whether he could be saved or not, and Link couldn’t help but gnaw at his nails in fear.

Finally, she drew herself up and wiped her hands on her tunic. Link watched her for any news, his brain stuttering to a stop as he waited for her words.

"Well?" His father finally broke the silence. She turned to face them.

"We need to get him back to the house, and quickly." she announced. "He can still be saved."

Link let out a long breath he didn't know he had been holding. His father strode over, lifted the boy into his arms and set off into a run - as fast as he could go without aggravating his injuries. His mother took his hand again and they swiftly followed in pursuit.

* * *

 

Treating the boy was agonisingly painful. Link could only stare, mouth agape, as his parents restrained the thrashing:  under his torn clothes, his wounds were worse than they had anticipated. The screams pierced long and well into the night, and Link clamped his hands over his ears as he sat, shivering, against the wall outside.

_How had he even thought of leaving the boy in the woods while he went off to play?_

The weight of his earlier intentions made his insides curl in disappointment, only making the long wait even wearier.

It was an eternity before his father stepped out of the room. He wiped his grimy fingers on his trousers as Link sprung up, and held a finger aloft before he could open his mouth.

“He’ll be fine.  A little tired, but fine.” he smiled tiredly. He ruffled Link’s hair. “You did a good job when you found him, son. I’m proud of you.”

Link weakly returned the smile, but his father’s reassurances nothing to heighten his glum mood. He didn’t _feel_ heroic, or as if he’d done something good. He had only found the boy by accident, and was about to leave him until he asked for help. He didn’t feel like he deserved his father’s praise - not all of it, anyway – but his inner turmoil went unnoticed as his father closed the door of the bedroom behind him.

His mother stepped out soon afterward. Quietly closing the door behind her, she all but collapsed into the armchair opposite the crackling fire, and it was with a sudden realisation that Link noticed how her eyes were bloodshot and drooping. He hurried over, unable to contain his worry.

“Mama? Are you okay? Is he really okay?”

She, too, smiled at him gently, but unlike his father she contemplated her words before answering.

“He’ll be alright for now.” she soothed. “He might be tired for a long while, and may not wake up for quite some time, but with the proper care I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She paused and cast an eye over his troubled expression, no doubt figuring out what he was really thinking, before smiling and continuing. “Would you like to look after him?”

Taken aback but pleased, Link took only a moment to think before nodding vigorously. “Of course! But I don’t know much about healing...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do the healing part. I actually wanted you to talk to him when he wakes, so he could be a little more comfortable. He’s suffered terrible injuries, and I don’t want him to feel more scared than he already is.”

A surge of delight rose up in him at the prospect of being to help for once instead of watching from afar, until it was quashed by the feeling from earlier. Suddenly he was uncomfortable again, fidgeting from foot to foot. It must’ve shown on his face, because his mother frowned and knitted her eyebrows together with concern.

“Link? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just...” he mumbled. She was waiting for him patiently. He took a deep breath before ploughing on. “I was going to leave him! I wanted to explore the woods and I stopped for a bit to see who it was, and then I only ran back here when he asked for help...”

She was silent. Link didn’t dare look up from where he was staring at the floor. Of course she would be disappointed in him. His mother, the woman lovingly known for her courage and honour; who taught him about justice and moral values from the day he started to talk. The person he looked up to and admired, who he had been told was like the legendary hero from the stories. Instead of following her example, he had acted like a villain, and had turned away from a person in need. She was probably going to scold him until his ears burned with shame, and it wouldn’t be undeserved. He waited.

She hugged him.

“Huh...?” Of all the things he was expecting, it hadn’t been _this._ “Mama?”

“Oh, Link.” She laughed, her eyes twinkling. “It doesn’t matter what you were _going_ to do, sweetie. You weren’t doing something wrong by thinking about leaving him, because you didn’t know he was hurt. In the end, you saved his life when you responded to his plea. He wouldn’t be here without you.”

He smiled, just a little. “You really mean it?”

“I really do. Although from now on, please try to wake a person if they happen to be sleeping in dangerous places. Help first, play later. Take a lesson from today, hm?”

He nodded, brightening.

“Anyway,” she straightened, her expression shifting from soft to stern. “You’re still awake. What time is it, mister?”

“Oh...” he gulped sheepishly. “Late...?”

She arched an eyebrow, and began to laugh when Link bolted up the stairs, knocking over a pot in the process.

Under the warm covers, Link wondered about the boy in the opposite room. How old was he? Was he sleeping peacefully? Dreams or nightmares? Did he snore?

If he snored, he was joining his father in the bed downstairs. Two elephants in one room. There was no need for one family to wake the entire neighbourhood, after all.

Link smiled tiredly at his own joke, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

* * *

 

The boy didn’t wake up. At least not for a long while.

His mother assured him that it was normal, but old worries resurfaced and Link couldn’t help but feel anxious. The boy slept for so long, longer than he had ever slept in his life, and he looked so weak. He wanted to talk to him and find out why he was in such a bad shape, but he simply _wouldn’t wake up._

The days passed in a blur of changing bandages, applying countless salves one after the other and carefully dripping water into his parted mouth. Link was learning a lot about healing under his mother’s tutelage coupled with a real patient, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. How she had the patience to do this for seven years at the castle, he couldn’t imagine.

Then, on the third day, she approached him quietly and told him that he had woken.

Link had leapt to his feet in his ecstasy and rushed to the door, before a hand clasped him firmly on the shoulder, effectively anchoring him in place. He pouted, impatient, and looked up to his mother. Her gentle disposition was gone, replaced by an uncharacteristically grim one.

“Try not to get so excited. He hasn’t spoken to us yet, but he might talk with you, since you’re nearer to his age. Be gentle.”

Link frowned but nodded anyway, before knocking lightly on the door and entering.

He noticed the boy’s expression before anything else – or rather, lack of expression. There was no joy or sorrow etching his features: his eyes held no spark or fire. He sat with a dull stare, only glancing up to check on who had come in, before resuming his gazing into his lap. Link brought up a stool, and waited for the boy to acknowledge him any further.

He didn’t. Link cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“Hi.” He began tentatively.

No response.

“I’m Link.”

The boy didn’t even look up. He tried again.

“Um. We found you in the woods. I mean, I found you in the woods. You were really hurt so I ran home – this place is home, by the way – and got my parents to carry you back. They healed you too.”

Again, no response. Link felt a twinge of frustration, though he quickly dismissed it. The boy was probably just scared.

“Do  you... um... know what happened to you? You were badly burnt, and you had lots of cuts...”

At this, the boy stiffened, his fists clenching the sheets into tight balls, and turned away. A surge of panic washed over Link. He hadn’t come to make things worse, yet the boy was becoming visibly angry anyway. It was definitely not what his mother had asked him to do.

“I-I’m sorry! It must be painful. I won’t ask you again if you don’t want me to.”

The boy didn’t answer, but visibly relaxed, if only a little. Link breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was being listened to, even if it wasn’t quite the reaction he had wanted.

“So... um... what’s your name? Oh, it’s all right if you don’t want to tell me,” he added hurriedly. “I only wanted to know so I could call you by it. But it’s okay, really! My name is Link – did I already tell you that? I’m nine years old. I know I look tiny, but I really am nine! You can even ask my mum. She’s the one who healed you, actually. Maybe you remember her? She’s the one with long brown hair...”

Link rambled on, aware that he was babbling, before he heard a soft whisper from the bed.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

The boy was quiet for a long moment, before finally looking straight at Link.

“My name. It’s Ganondorf Dragmire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I appreciate any comments and/or kudos that you guys leave :> Chapter updates may be a little irregular until mid-June because I have exams, but I will try my hardest to get them written to the best of my ability. 
> 
> Visit my tumblr [here!](http://veilsofmist.tumblr.com)


	3. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They live together, and share a comical experience or seven.

Link stared blankly at the boy – or Ganondorf, since he had now revealed his name.

“Ga-non-dorf?” he repeated, pronouncing the unfamiliar word carefully. The other nodded with the same serious expression.

Ganondorf was definitely a foreign name, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it originated from. Pronouncing it in its entirety gave off a grand, even regal, air. It was different, and sat strangely on the tongue, but somehow it seemed to fit him perfectly.

Ganondorf continued to observe him, his eyes boring into Link's and holding far more scrutiny than he had ever encountered from anyone before – even from the most traditional of elders. His gaze was clear, yet it unsettled Link; causing his insides to squirm in discomfort.

It was as if he was issuing him a challenge; daring him to make fun out of his name. Link had no intention to do so; the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until he became aware of Ganondorf’s stare. He wryly wondered how he was going to _not_ mess up Ganondorf’s name when he talked to him. It was just so uncommon... Maybe if he practised in front of the mirror? But then again, someone might hear him, and that would definitely be awkward...

“Do you mind if I call you Ganon?” Link blurted out, without thinking his words through.

 Immediately he shot up in his seat and cursed himself for making such a drastic move. What was he thinking? Here was a boy he had known for ten minutes, a boy who possibly might have become his friend, and he went and insulted him as soon as he met him. Ganondorf looked taken aback at Link’s suggestion, causing him to panic and hastily try to take back his words.

"You don't have to if you don't want to! I'm sorry I even asked, it was probably really rude..."

“No... It’s fine.” Ganon said slowly. “I was only surprised. No one’s ever called me Ganon before.”

 Link exhaled, relieved. “That’s... good. I thought I annoyed you for a bit.”

He rose, grabbing a pack of cards from the bedside drawer as he went. “I’ve got cards,” he explained, offering half the pack to Ganon, “so we don’t get bored.” He decided to ignore his trembling fingers and Ganon’s quizzical look.

Ganon looked at the pack, and for a split second Link was sure he had seen flashes of an expression flit across his face. It didn't look like a smile - not a proper smile, anyway - but it wasn't his default stoic expression either. Whatever victory Link was about to celebrate was replaced, however, by something far worse.

“That’s nice of you,” Ganon agreed, “but I don’t know how to play cards.”

Link stopped, and stared.

“You’ve... never played cards?”

Ganon shook his head.

A lengthy, palpable silence followed his statement, punctuated only by the pattering of the rain on the windows.  Link felt rather than saw his jaw drop, followed by his eyes physically widening in slow motion. Ganon, for his part, looked wholly unconcerned, which had to be a crime in itself. The tension was like ice - of the red, unbreakable kind - until Link could handle it no longer and finally exploded in a burst of outrage.

“What do you _mean_ you’ve never played cards?!”

“I just never did! I never had any!” Ganon defended hotly. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“You’re joking, right?” Shock reverberated through Link in deafening waves. How could one not have played _cards_ , possibly the best game in the entirety of Hyrule?

Ganon didn't respond. Sensing a heavy burden settle upon him, Link squared his shoulders, resolute. No one in Myrrha _didn't_ know how to play cards. No one in _Hyrule_ didn't know how to play cards! He felt then a little like his father, rising up to his duty as a knight - perhaps not as treacherous, but serious nonetheless.

“I’m teaching you.” he said firmly.  “How have you never played? You can’t just... live in Hyrule and _not_ have played cards!”

Ganon rolled his eyes and muttered, “I’ve seen people play. It’s not that great.”

That was it. Link stood, his mouth curving into a frown, and gave Ganon the sternest expression he could muster.

“I’m going to change your mind. When we’re finished, you’re going to _love_ cards.” He shuffled until he was directly face to face with Ganon, and noticed with a start that Ganon had shed his sullen glare for an intrigued one. Inwardly he glowed, tallying his first victory away in his mind. He had a feeling that he had succeeded in his mission to get Ganon to open up to them, even if it was just a little and, so far, only to Link.

“First, you’ve heard of Snap, right? You need to get two cards that look the same, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds...”

* * *

 Over the next few days, Ganon recovered, albeit slowly. Link kept him company throughout the day and long into the night, even foregoing his usual free time to try and squeeze a sentence or two out of the other. He had to admit, it was nice to have someone to talk to; despite said someone being utterly soundless and only talking when asked a question. It was clear that whatever happened in the woods had had an immense effect on Ganon, and Link sometimes wondered what he had been like before he was so savagely hurt.

It was sad that Ganon wasn’t the same around his parents. He averted his eyes and became more reserved whenever his parents checked in on him, like the snuffing out of a candle after a nasty gust of wind. This cold demeanour didn’t stop with just the two of them, but also extended to the people in the village who had come to greet the ‘newcomer’, as they called him. Link couldn’t help but notice that Ganon only went completely rigid and silent around the adults. He was much more relaxed with the kids that so often begged Link to show them how to fish; sometimes he even joined in with them. His behaviour was strange, but there wasn’t much Link could do about it without snooping.

His parents were a little hurt by Ganon’s unfriendliness, but they brushed it off and continued to care for the both of them as they had been doing. Link didn’t press Ganon, in fear of triggering a reaction like he had the first time they had talked. It had sent off a memory that he didn’t want to make Ganon experience again. Their relationship was steadily improving, and he didn’t want to ruin it as soon as it had started.

Weeks later, Ganon had finally been deemed fit to sit outside for a little while, mainly to catch some fresh air. Link had wasted no time in dragging him into their garden, where an impressive variety of plants waved lazily in the summer breeze. Link flopped into the shadow of their apple tree and patted the grass in a sluggish effort to get Ganon to lie down next to him. Slowly, Ganon knelt down and rested his hands on the floor, leaning back on them as he tipped back his face to meet the glaring sun.

“Sure is hot today, isn’t it?” Link sighed, shifting to get more comfortable under the sweltering heat. Ganon merely grunted; an affirmation that he had heard, and was listening. He rarely initiated conversation, so Link ploughed on.

“Last year, it was even hotter. I couldn’t even sit still in one place, so I kept wandering from house to house, talking to every kid as I passed.” Link smiled at the memory. “I was actually only walking around for the shade, and water, but I never got any water in the end because everyone had already drank their own.”

To his delight, Ganon gave a snort. “I bet you looked funny.”

“Hey! I looked normal!” Link swatted Ganon’s shoulder. “No one thought I was weird, but that was probably because everyone was feeling the heat too.”

Ganon raised one eyebrow before looking skywards to the tree branches, where the sunlight struggled to push through the thickets. “It’s a good thing you have this tree here, huh.”

“We planted it ages ago. It didn’t sprout for a long time, but when I was seven it really began to grow. Sometimes I pick the apples, so Mum gets to make apple pie from them.”

If Ganon noticed the collective way he called his mother, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave a heavy sigh and looked down at the ground, where the light dappled the grass and weaved through the leaves.

“Back home, it was always hot.” he murmured. “It was much hotter than it is here.”

Suddenly, Link was alert, all trace of drowsiness gone in span of a sentence. His surroundings ground to a stuttering halt, and the twittering sounds of the wildlife became muted. This was the first time Ganon had mentioned his home by himself, which surely meant something had changed.  Maybe it was Link’s imagining, but he thought he noticed a hint of uncertainty behind Ganon’s voice; almost as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to go about it. Link turned his full attention onto him.

Ganon studied Link’s reaction from his leaning position, eyes holding his own with a startling tiredness. “I suppose you want to know about where I come from.”

Link paused, and considered his words. Admittedly he was curious, but at the same time he didn’t want to scare Ganon off; or worse, make it seem as if he was interested in how Ganon had gotten to the forest in such a way. Ganon had gotten so triggered at the past mention of his home, and it had been terrible to watch. Link really didn’t want him to go through the same thing again.

“Not if you don’t want to.” he eventually answered. The underlying reassurance went unspoken.

Ganon wavered. He closed his eyes and inhaled softly, as if collecting his thoughts. Link waited patiently for him to say something.

“I was born in Gerudo Citadel, out in the desert.” he began at last. “I never knew my parents, and I don’t remember much from when I was small, but I do remember moving to an orphanage on the outskirts of the citadel, in Bari Village. I grew up there with a dozen or so other girls and an old woman, who cared for us as if we were her own.

“In time, I started to think of the girls as my sisters, and the woman as my mother. We were all very close, and I was... happy.” Ganon stopped for a bit, before his composure darkened. Link continued to wait in anticipation, digesting the barrage of new information all at once. A sense of foreboding settled over the two, but Link had no idea what was behind it.

It was an eternity before Ganon continued. He looked up to stare directly into Link's eyes, his own emptied of any emotion, causing a cold pit of dread to pool in Link’s stomach. His eyes, terribly harrowing and sorrowful, were enough to make Link pause and reconsider his decision to listen to his past. Ganon swallowed thickly before averting his eyes.

“One day, a group of bandits broke in, stole our gold and burned the house down.”

Link clapped a hand quickly over his mouth to stifle his horror. Time itself seemed to slow as he tried to comprehend what Ganon had just told him. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it hadn’t been _this_.

Bandits - although rare in these more peaceful times of Hyrule - were ruthless, bloodthirsty and unfortunately rather well-organised. They usually raided houses for gold, but countless tales told of their twisted glee after witnessing the fates of their helpless victims. As Link tried to process his haunting tale, Ganon dropped his gaze and turned away.

Suddenly, all of Ganon’s reservations around older people made sense.

“I... I’m sorry,” Link finished lamely.

‘Sorry’ didn't even cut it. The thin apology barely scratched the surface for the sadness Link felt for Ganon. To have a loving family ripped away in an instant... if Link lost his mother and father, he was sure he would go insane just from the grief alone. It was unthinkable, and he could only begin to imagine what it must've been like for Ganon.

'Sorry' by itself had no impact, and Link knew as much.

“I was the only one to survive, so I fled the village and ran into mainland Hyrule. I hoped to find help somewhere, but I guess I wasn’t strong enough to make it by myself.”

There was a hard bitterness to his voice when he spoke of his escape, leaving Link anxious and feeling utterly useless. He could see no way to comfort Ganon without making it seem as if he were pitying him, and Ganon didn't seem like the type of person who would appreciate overbearing sympathy.

He had only one idea: but it was equal parts risky and unpredictable. Half of him didn't care whether Ganon resented him for it, while the other half screamed and hesitated with worry whenever Ganon gazed at him with those empty eyes. It was a dangerous idea and could possibly lead to the breaking of their unsteady friendship.  Besides, what if Ganon didn't accept?

Deep down Link knew that, if he didn’t ask Ganon now, he wouldn’t be able to find another opportunity in the future.

“You could stay here.” Link coughed, before he could chicken out. “With us, I mean.”

Ganon gave him a dubious look. His answer was immediate.

“I can’t impose. I need to find my own way somehow.”

With a plummeting heart, Link tried again. “I mean it. You can’t just leave now! It’s too dangerous out there!”

He didn’t add how much fun, and how much _better_ life was now that Ganon was in it, or how much he wanted to help Ganon after hearing his unhappy tale. Desperation began to claw its way into his heart.

“I can’t be a burden, Link. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” With those last echoing words, Ganon swiftly leapt to his feet and stalked away into the dense bushes, no doubt to be alone with his thoughts again.

Link watched him go, unmoving, but internally his brain was shouting at him to _stop Ganon, however you can!_ He knew it was unsafe to travel alone outside and without any proper training. However competent Ganon thought he was, a person who had lost everyone couldn’t cope all by themselves for too long.

Put simply, Link didn’t want Ganon to suffer by himself. He supposed that he felt this way because of lingering guilt, but still; if he could find a way to stop Ganon from leaving, then he would.

* * *

 His mother looked up from her book as he entered the room a week later, a beaming smile spread across her face as always. She gestured for Link to sit down beside her, which he gratefully did, and held up the cover for him to see.

“ _Tales of Time_ ,” she explained. “It used to be your favourite when you were younger. I found it under the bed when I was looking for something, and I thought I should have a read again, for old time’s sake.”

Link smiled, a little wistful. “I remember wanting to be like the hero,” he recalled. “It seems a bit silly now, though. I mean, I’m pretty sure the magical ocarina doesn’t exist anymore, or time travel.”

“Well, you never know. Some things are just hidden until it’s the right time to discover them. The Hero of Time only properly used the ocarina after he had slept for seven years, after all.”

Link fell silent, thinking back on his younger days. Life had seemed so much more straightforward with his set routine: eat, play, sleep and repeat. Now, with the sudden threat of dangers and pain in the world, things were a lot more complicated. The future was decidedly clouded, and unfogging it proved much more difficult than how the hero in the stories managed to do it.

Ganon’s actions crept back into Link’s mind, as they often did. He found that his words were stuck revolving around his head, refusing to leave him alone and constantly feeding upon his thoughts. Link had wracked his brains for any idea that could help. He had come up with nothing.

“Ganon wants to leave.” he burst out. He fiddled with the fabric of his tunic as he spoke. “He says he doesn’t want to impose, or something.”

He glanced up at his mother to find a surprised, a perhaps a little incredulous, expression. _Tales_ was forgotten and laid upon her lap as she furrowed her brows at his words.

“Where does he mean to go?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I told him that he has to stay, that we want him here, but I don’t think he listened. He started talking to me about his village, before. It... wasn’t very nice.”

“I see.” She didn’t speak for a while after that, gazing into the distance as if in a trance. Link watched with apprehension.

Then, her mouth gradually began to curve upwards, crinkling at the corners and making her smile lines more noticeable. She leapt up, placed the book on the table and turned to Link with a crooked smile.

“He still doesn’t like us, does he? Your father and I, I mean.”

Link stumbled as he hurriedly got up and followed her to where she had headed to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t put it like that... He does like you, it’s just... He’s a bit...”

“Don’t worry, I know.” she laughed. “Here. Come back after a bit,” she disappeared into the larder, “and give him some apple pie.”

Link nearly crashed into her back in his surprise. He looked up at her, flabbergasted. “What’s apple pie going to do?”

She patted his cheek, and reached up to the cupboard where the spices were kept. “Mother’s intuition!” she called over her shoulder, before ushering him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Link was left thoroughly confused – really, what _was_ apple pie going to do? Would apples actually change Ganon’s mind? Never before had his mother suggested such a thing, especially when it came to people’s actions and emotions.

It was a crazy idea, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing. Despite her curious behaviour, Link believed in his mother all the same. He waited.

* * *

 A few hours later, with a warm, fruity package pressed into his hands, Link found himself pacing the hallway outside Ganon’s room. He wasn’t scared, as such; he was honestly more nervous than afraid. He still had no idea how apple pie could persuade Ganon to stay with them by itself, but he supposed his mother knew what she was doing. After all, she had seemed quite positive as she cooked, whistling away in the kitchen and humming softly as she chopped the apples.

Hoping for the best, Link carefully pushed open the door with his free hand, the pie occupying the other.

Inside, Ganon was staring up at the ceiling with a melancholy expression – typical. Link fought the urge to ask him how he was feeling. Instead, he focused on the task at hand.

“Hey.” he said brightly. “Mum made you something. You might want to take a look.”

To his amusement, Ganon immediately dropped his gaze from the ceiling and rolled over to face him. He eyed the package with suspicion, but didn’t refuse it when Link offered it to him. Though he handled it tentatively between his fingers, there was no trace of a negative response. It was satisfying to see Ganon actually react to something rather than stay passive, as he did before.

He inhaled softly with surprise as he peeled away the wrapping. Link waited with bated breath as he lifted a tiny piece and nibbled at its edges.

Hours seem to pass as he chewed, slowly at first, before properly working through the layers of pastry. From painful experience, Link knew how long it was before someone’s teeth could free itself from the sticky clutches of his mother’s apple pie. It took time to get used to.

 “Well?” Link asked, nervous. “What d’you think?”

Ganon chewed thoroughly. He swallowed, and then took another piece. Link waited, and hoped.

“It’s -,” he managed between bites, and Link’s spirits began to lift, “really...good... actually...”

Link fist-pumped the air and cheered, forgetting for a moment the circumstances in which he was in, before hastily lowering his arm as Ganon  gave him a knowing smile. “Well,” he said, “it’s obviously good. Mum made it. Everything she makes is good.”

“I agree.” Ganon nodded. Link smiled, and added Ganon’s affirmation onto his slowly-growing Make-Ganon-Smile victory list.

Ganon paused for a moment as he devoured the rest of the pie, before looking up to meet Link’s eyes with a guilty expression.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier, and...” he trailed off slowly, but continued at Link’s encouraging gestures, “I think... perhaps, I wouldn’t mind.”

Link felt a huge grin starting to spread across his face. “Wouldn’t mind what?”

Ganon gave him a dry, yet slightly embarrassed look. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say _what?_ ”

“You _know_ what!”

Afterwards, Link realised that perhaps his taunting really had gotten them somewhere. His ribs felt as if they had been thrown into Death Mountain Crater after the thumping he had been subjected to, but he discovered with a jolt that he didn’t really care. Ganon’s smiles were becoming a lot more frequent, and that was enough for him.

“You know,” he giggled, wiping a tear from his eye, “you should talk to my parents. Our parents. They still don’t understand why you ignore them.”

At this, Ganon instantly sobered, and looked down with a crestfallen expression. “I’ve been meaning to apologise for a while now, but I couldn’t really put it into words without sounding like... well, like an idiot.”

Link shuffled until he sat shoulder to shoulder with Ganon. It was a little uncomfortable against the stiff headboard, but he took no notice. “Is it because of... those bandits?” he asked softly.

Ganon stiffened at his words, causing Link to panic again, but his alarm soon vanished when Ganon relaxed. “...Partly,” he murmured, “but also because... every single person I asked for help while I was running away from the orphanage turned me away. No one offered me help, which is why I guess I’m a little... bitter, towards adults. They saw a desperate Gerudo child, yet they didn’t give me the time of day. I hated it.”

Sympathy tugged on Link’s heartstrings like the strum of a harp. Ganon’s past was becoming more tragic with every piece of information he revealed, and Link’s heart ached as he tried to understand how Ganon had managed to cope through it all. His inner strength truly was incredible.

“Ours aren’t like that.” Link said softly.

“I know, I know. Like I said, I sound a little stupid. I _know_ all adults aren’t like that, but whenever I see one I keep thinking of what those bandits did, and what the people along the way didn’t do, and I just get so... angry.”

Ganon sighed, before turning to Link once again. “I still want to apologise to your parents, though. They’ve been kind to me, but I’ve been nothing but rude. It’s not right.”

Link nudged him. “ _Our_ parents,” he reminded once again. “If you’re going to live here, you can’t just call them _my_ parents all the time – that’d sound too weird. Anyway, Mum’s dead-set on adopting you, and she’s kinda stubborn. I don’t think you could’ve left here, even if you wanted to.”

Ganon stayed quiet, and Link hoped beyond hope that his little speech was encouraging enough to provide all the persuasion Ganon needed.

Finally, the corners of Ganon’s mouth tugged upwards into the beginnings of a smirk. “I guess I’ll have to call you my _little brother_ from now on.” he teased.

He seemed slightly anxious when he said ‘brother’, as if he thought Link would be offended by it, until he felt the light impact from the friendly shove that Link gave him with a smile.

Another tally for the Make-Ganon-Smile victory list, then.

* * *

 There was no talk at the dinner table later that evening, as had become normal over the past few weeks since Ganon’s arrival. However this time, the atmosphere had thawed slightly, with Ganon no longer actively avoiding the adults’ eyes, and even smiling at times (although nervously). Link pushed his leg against the other’s at the dinner table every minute or two, a silent motion of encouragement; _they won’t be made at you, just say it!_ Even so, Link could see that Ganon was taking his time and steeling himself for his announcement. He was taking ages, but Link supposed that it would be better if he did it in his own time, rather than being pushed to do it when he wasn’t ready.

Ganon cleared his throat when his father had finished serving the fish stew. He waited until all eyes were on him. It was only when they had settled into the chairs, did he speak up.

“I just wanted to say that... well, I’m sorry for ignoring you.” Ganon’s voice quivered as he began.“You’ve been nothing but accommodating, and I feel as if I’ve been nothing but rude. I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me in time.”

Ganon’s voice was far too quiet and his tone was far too formal, with only his fidgeting thumbs betraying his mortification. However, Link didn’t pay it much attention, since his mother only beamed at Ganon and his father broke out into a relieved chuckle.

“It’s quite alright, son. I’m just glad you’ve finally decided to talk to us.”

“Did you like the pie?” his mother asked, shooting a knowing look at Link.

Ganon scratched the back of his neck, pleased at the supportive reaction. “Y-yeah. It was really good. I’d love to try some more, if you have some.”

She laughed and patted his hand. To Link’s relief, Ganon didn’t pull away from the contact as he was half-expecting him to. “That’s high praise. Link just devours it and runs off. He never even thanks me.”

“Hey! I do like your food! I even told Ganon so upstairs, remember, Ganon?”

Ganon pulled a face, before slyly smirking. “Eh, not really. I don’t remember you saying anything of the sort.”

“ _Hey!_ I know what I said! Stop denying it, Ganon! I _know_ you’re lying!”

His protests trailed off into the air, as Ganon sniggered into his soup and his mother laid a hand on her hip. They were making fun of him, but as the family broke out into a bout of laughter at his expense, the atmosphere became a lot warmer than it had ever been in the past few weeks.

* * *

 “Why isn’t this _working?”_

Ganon’s frustrated growls punctuated the air ceaselessly, leaving Link in a constant state of amusement. It seemed that he wasn’t suited for fishing, what with his large hands and hot impatience. They had been at the lake for an hour already, and while Link would’ve caught at least a couple in that time, Ganon had failed to catch even one. It was mainly due to his constant twitching and grumbling, but Link didn’t tell him that, instead choosing to watch him stew in his own frustration.  It was, admittedly, funny to watch.

“That’s because you’re doing it all wrong.” Link said airily. “Here. I’ll show you how you’re supposed to do it.”

“No!” Ganon snapped, yanking the rod back from Link’s outstretched hand. “I’m doing it by myself. I _will_ catch a fish by myself before the day’s finished. Just watch.”

“If you say so.”

Link sat back to watch Ganon as he crouched, with his brows furrowed in comical concentration, on the boardwalk. It was miraculous, the way he had opened up to everyone after that dinner. Ganon had switched from brooding and silent to humorous and outspoken overnight, with a bit of a sarcastic streak as well. Link was pleased to say that their friendship had also progressed swiftly. They bickered and argued at times, but it was always with a competitive undertone rather than a malicious one, and besides; the other village kids complained of exactly the same situations with their own siblings, so he knew that their relationship was a pretty normal one. Having someone to share his interests with was exciting, especially since Ganon never tired of Link’s enthusiasm, and even shared with him discoveries of his own.

“Look! I think I got one!”

Ganon’s exuberant shout brought Link out of his reverie, and he hastily leapt to his feet to watch as Ganon wrestled with the rod, tugging it this way and that.

“Keep pulling!” he encouraged, coming forward to help if he was needed. “Yeah, that’s it, pull it in the opposite direction, no _not that way you idiot!_ -“

“I know, I’m doing it!”

Ganon yanked and strained with the rod, as Link kept an eye on the swelling ripples in the water. With the amount of pulling that was going on, this fish had to be _huge._

“Nearly... there...!”

The ripples erupted into frantic splashing, which grew larger and louder, almost deafening, until-

“ _Look!”_

The line flew out of the lake, shimmering and dripping with water. Dangling on the end of the rope was a fat, round and almost spherical sturgeon, wriggling desperately in the sudden exposure to air.

“Miharian Sturgeon, right?” Ganon said proudly, freeing the fish from the line and laying it gently into a wooden bucket.

Link smiled. “Not bad.”

“Oh, please. I was amazing. This one’s _huge.”_

Link huffed with mock indignation. “Excuse me? When I went fishing for the first time, I caught three catfish. Three! You only caught one sturgeon.”

“Yeah, but you told me that the sturgeon is bigger than the catfish anyway, so that doesn’t matter, does it?” Ganon hauled the bucket into one hand, before turning to Link with a smirk. “At any rate, we’re having a good dinner tonight.”

Link jogged to stay beside Ganon, rod in hand. “We are, but don’t change the subject. I was a better fisherman than you.”

Ganon rolled his eyes, and sped up. His large strides made it near impossible for Link to keep pace with him, especially holding a fishing rod, and he knew it.

Link stuck a tongue out from behind his back.

* * *

 He watched, slightly envious, as Ganon sparred with his father.

His father was a trained knight, and so possessed a certain prowess as a swordsman that was impressive in its own right. However, it was somewhat predictable once one figured out how he moved. Link, having trained with his father for years now, could predict these moves to an extent, although he wasn’t very good at executing the parries needed to block his attacks.

Ganon, however, was on a whole other spectrum.

His movements were almost otherworldly. Every step he took was measured, calculated, and every swing of his sword held relentless power that had even his father struggling to keep back. His movements were fluid and resembled a dance, although not like the graceful movements of a common fire performer. It was more to do with the assurance and poise of his spins, and the vigour behind his strikes. No thrust was clunky, and no parry was misplaced. Link noticed that Ganon’s eyes had narrowed in fierce concentration, and he pursued his father’s movements unfailingly. It seemed as if he was trained in swordplay, and trained well.

With a sudden clang, the wooden sword was at his father’s neck.

“Yield?” Ganon asked.

His father nodded, smiling with approval as he lowered Grymhildr. “You’re a natural,” he praised, and despite his awe Link felt a swoop of pride as Ganon scratched his ears sheepishly. “You must have had skilled mentors to achieve this level of skill at such a young age.”

Ganon sighed, and Link recognised the sound from when he had spoken of Bari. “My sisters were even better than me,” he admitted. “They would’ve had me pinned down in a second.”

A pang of sorrow coursed through Link at the mention of Ganon’s family. He didn’t bring them up often anymore, but the subject wasn’t strictly taboo. Though he had found it easier to speak of them over the years, the subtle ache in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and it was painfully obvious that their deaths still haunted him.

His father placed a large hand on his shoulder. “They must have been wonderful, then, if you’re anything to go by.” he told him reassuringly. At Ganon’s tiny nod, he straightened, before turning to Link.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to get Link on his toes in no time.”

His father’s attempt at lightening the solemn mood seemed to work when Ganon’s sombre expression slowly spread into a smirk. Link’s heart sank at the thought of the relentless teasing that was sure to follow their own sparring. He wouldn’t ever tell Ganon – he had to keep _some_ dignity after all - but by Hylia, he really wasn’t the best swordsman around. It was probably something to do with how he was rarely bothered to get up so early in the morning just to train. Not that he was ever going to admit it, though...

Link sighed mournfully, and prepared himself for a thorough pummelling.

* * *

 The frosty breeze whistled through the branches, propelling a shiver through Link’s fingers. The sun barely peeked out from behind the bulky cloud barrier, and the garden pond had hardened to stiff ice. Why he had wanted to go outside was now a mystery to him. It was true that he didn’t want to give up an old tradition, but at the same time the exposure was unforgiving and merciless. Rubbing his hands and shakily blowing on them in an attempt to generate some hot air, Link turned to glance over his shoulder.

Ganon was arguably in a worse shape, huddled in a cocoon of blankets against the apple tree and clutching a mug of warm tea as if it were his own lifeline. His teeth chattered, like hard rain pounding into the soil in the rainy season. Link supposed that, even after all these years, mainland Hyrule’s winter was difficult to get used to after a childhood in the desert.

Link shuffled towards the tree and stole a bit of the blanket himself, much to the cocoon’s chagrin.

“Don’t hog it all, I’m freezing,” Ganon demanded, tugging on it to retrieve his comfort back. “I don’t even know why we still do this. It’s the middle of the bloody winter.”

“Stop nagging.” Link muttered. “It’s tradition.”

Ganon rolled his eyes. “’Tradition’, my arse. If we get hypothermia, we can’t exactly use ‘tradition’ as an excuse before we get scolded to death.”

“We’ll be _fine_ , stop worrying. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.” Link waited for Ganon’s complete attention before he continued.

“What is it?”

Link hesitated before he asked his question. It wasn’t something to be scared of or embarrassed about, but merely something he wanted Ganon’s input on. The only reason he paused was because the response he would get could possibly change his entire future.

“Where will you go for your Arelyth?” he asked.

The Trial of Arelyth was an ancient tradition in Hyrule, dating back centuries before even the previous Hero had risen. In short, it was a trial that all the youths of Hyrule from age thirteen and onwards undertook in order to gain the blessing of the Goddess Hylia herself. The old texts spoke of how Hylia had bestowed her first Trial upon the Hero long ago to temper his spirit. He had proven worthy of her blessing, and had drawn strength from it in the battle against the Fallen King. Since then, the people of Hyrule had celebrated his victory by honouring Hylia and sending their own youths to prove themselves, shadowing the Hero’s great trials.

In recent times the Trial’s difficulty had lessened significantly, only consisting of years in a trade the youths would labour towards and perfect themselves. It was still a matter of great importance, and an event all the children of Hyrule eagerly looked forward to.

Ganon paused to reflect. Link waited, a little apprehensive, for his response. The wind blew as erratically as ever, but was forgotten as he twisted his fingers into his scarf and fidgeted about the knees.

“The castle, I guess.” Ganon finally answered.

Link immediately brightened as a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. “I was hoping you’d say that.” he beamed.

“Why, do you want to become a knight?”

“Of course! Dad was a knight, and he went to the castle for his Trial. I want to do the same too.”

Ganon sank back against the tree after his declaration, diving back into the blankets as he did so. “Guess I have to go, then,” he yawned, “can’t have you setting the castle on fire while you’re there, after all.”

“Hey!” Link protested. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, really.”

“Yes, really!”

“For some reason, knowing you, I highly doubt that.” Ganon grumbled as he tucked the blankets around him into a tighter shield, before standing up.

Link snorted. He looked absolutely ridiculous, shivering against the cold, yet holding the fabric around him like a king’s cloak.

“I’m heading back in,” he announced. “Try not to die out here.”

He stalked off towards the house. Link shoved his knuckles against his mouth to stifle his giggles when Ganon cursed and tripped over a tree root stretching innocently across the path.

* * *

 “ _The Fallen King laughed and reformed into a mighty boar, which ploughed through the grasses of Hyrule Field. Blood and fire glowed in its eyes and its skin flared with the smokes of horror. The beast reared up on its back legs as lightning shot out of its mouth, shattering the blade of evil’s bane out of the hero’s hand and far out of his reach._ _All seemed to be lost, until the princess bestowed upon the hero the sacred Bow of Light._ Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?”

“Don’t interrupt, Ganon, you’re getting to the good part!”

“Fine, fine... _The battle was long and arduous. The hero fought until his fingers split and were torn asunder, the bowstring bloodied, and the princess aided him however she could._

_“Finally, the sky darkened to crimson as the beast howled in agony. The time had come. The hero, exhausted by his efforts, circled the beast as tremors shook the earth. The princess strained to restrain the beast, until the hero drew back his final arrow, and shot blinding, pure light into the soul of the beast itself._

_“As it roared in anguish, the princess used her last lingering strength to call upon the Goddesses of old. She summoned the power handed down through the royal family, her own birthright, and as the beast descended upon her, she banished it into the voids of darkness. The skies faded into blue, and the world was saved._

_“However, the Goddess Hylia had one last part to play. Urged by one of her anguished sisters, who couldn’t bear to watch her people turn against the birthplace of the conqueror, she lifted her divine hands and gently told the clouds to rain. Rain they did, and as the droplets poured upon the bodies of her people, so did their memory of the King of Evil fade away._

_“Thus, Hyrule was purged, and with it the memories of the horrors the King had forced upon it. For the first time in many years, the sun rose to greet a land untouched by malice, and people lightened with joy.”_

Ganon closed the book shut with a snap, and laid it aside. Link sighed, and stretched his arms from where he was dozing on the floor.

“I wonder why the Goddess wiped everyone’s memories?” he asked noncommittally.

Ganon snorted. “You’ve read this hundreds of times. One of the Goddess’s sisters didn’t want to see the Hylians turning on the Dark King’s people, so she took their memories to prevent any civil war.”

“Still,” Link murmured doubtfully, “doesn’t it seem like something’s missing from the story? The Goddess wouldn’t just wipe the memory of the entire world... it doesn’t seem very...” here he hesitated, “...wise. Wouldn’t it be better if the people remembered what happened, so it wouldn’t happen again?”

Ganon shrugged. “Don’t ask me how the Goddesses work. As long as there’s no Evil King now, I’m fine with whatever she did.”

Link didn’t answer, and instead chose to stare at his left hand. He wondered how the hero felt as he was called to his destiny, or when he blinked away the rain and found that he couldn’t recall the person he had fought. It seemed sad, even cruel. To forget what a person was fighting for...

 “That reminds me,” Ganon interrupted, pulling Link out of his reverie, “isn’t the princess around the same age as you?”

“Oh, yeah... I think so.”

“Huh. You’re twelve now, so we’re due to head off to the castle soon. Maybe you’ll get to meet her there.”

“M-meet Princess Zelda?” Link stammered.

The princess was outgoing and brightly optimistic, or so he had been told. Villagers who had returned from the castle all spoke grandly about her: how she would travel around Castletown after her studies and ask after everyone she met, or how her eyes would light up whenever she heard an ancient story, or how her smile would lift even the gloomiest out of their melancholy.

They also spoke of how heavily she was guarded. The King cared greatly about the safety of his only daughter, and many men had been detained upon suspicion of threatening Her Highness. In some cases, they were allegedly shipped off to a distant land, never to be seen again. For good or for worse, nobody really knew.

Most importantly, Link couldn’t possibly become her friend. She was the Crown Princess, and he was to become a knight. It just wasn’t proper.

“I don’t see why not.” Ganon went on, unaware of Link’s inner agitation. “I heard she could talk a Lynel’s ears off. She’d be good for you and your snarky mutterings.”

“N-no! I’m supposed to be a _knight_ , Ganon, I can’t just become the Princess’s friend out of nowhere! What would Dad say? And Mum? The King would probably kill me for even talking to her!”

“They wouldn’t even mind- okay, _okay_ , calm down, I’m just messing with you! No need to get so flustered...” Ganon smirked as Link’s face reddened. “Also, you do know that the death penalty was abolished in Hyrule over a century ago?”

“Shut up. Of course I know.” Link grumbled petulantly. “And I wasn’t flustered.”

“Mm hm, of course you weren’t, which is why you’re blushing like a dodongo in heat. I hear that the court poets sing of her golden hair and... what was it? ‘Eyes that shimmer like how the sun touches upon a flowing spring’? Don’t they call her the ‘Sun of Hyrule’ too? Link?”

Ganon laughed as Link furiously rubbed at his face. “I’m not blushing, because I haven’t even met her yet!”

“Relax, little brother, I only jest. It’s just funny to see you stutter at the mention of a girl.”

“I didn’t _stutter!_ ”

Ganon ruffled his hair so that it was even messier than before, sticking up like the twigs of a bird’s nest. “I can’t wait to see you court someone.” he snickered. “You’d probably get so nervous that you’d drop the flowers, or spill water on their clothes. I’m going to have so much blackmail material without even trying...”

Link groaned at Ganon’s never-ending teasing and flopped backwards onto the grass, trying to block out his voice. As always, his efforts proved fruitless, and he was forced to endure Ganon’s sing-song taunts for the rest of that evening.

* * *

 As the days sped by, life improved.

Weeks blended into months, which in turn whisked off into years. Evynne watched, unchanging, as her sons changed, barely noticeably. To her eyes, it was as if they had grown decades rather than years, but she supposed that was how all mothers felt in time.

She clasped her hands around the hot mug of coffee, blowing on it lightly and watching as Link and Ganon practised their swordplay not far off in the distance. It was apparent that Link still had much to learn. She chuckled as he once again drove at Ganon with a yell, and consequently found himself face first in the dust. He was enthusiastic, but rash, and it was noticeable in his attacks.

On the other hand, Ganon had almost certainly surpassed Cadmus himself. The years had done well for him; three years ago, he had only stood a hair’s breadth taller than Link. Now he towered over the latter, so that Link’s hair barely grazed his chest whenever they collided in one of their bear hugs. He was easily able to overpower him by sheer strength alone, even without his impressive skill. Evynne could not remember one time where Link had won, although he was steadily coming closer to doing so. Link’s stubbornness in his vision to defeat Ganon had enabled him to reach new peaks in skill that he could not have reached if he was unmotivated, like he had been before.

Her younger son was persistent. A little clumsy, and definitely needing work on both swordplay and archery, but he was determined. In time, she knew that he would achieve great heights, even if he did not believe it himself.

In the distance, Ganon was guffawing at a scowling Link who was once again covered in dirt on the floor.

She smiled. Link had become a lot happier ever since that fateful day years ago, as had Ganon. They truly were good for each other.

* * *

 

The time came to leave for Hyrule Castle.

At the tender age of thirteen, Link stood in the pathway in front of his house, adjusting Epona’s saddle. His father had left mysteriously in the night, announcing that he would return with ‘one last surprise’ for both him and Ganon before they left. He had returned the following morning with two horses in tow: one chestnut-brown mare and another coal-black stallion. Ganon had immediately asked for the stallion, leaving Link to wrestle with the mare – Epona – by himself. She was feisty and had a wild temperament, and Link imagined that it would take time for them to bond. Fortunately she had soon quietened, blinking balefully at Link as he smoothed his hands over her neck. He was optimistic. After all, he had already suffered a few of her excruciating kicks – how worse could they possibly get?

“What’re you naming yours?” he called over his shoulder.

“Don’t know.” Ganon grinned as he hoisted himself into the stirrups. “I’m still thinking on it. It has to be something original, yet impressive...”

“What about Ganonhoof?” Link muttered under his breath, turning around as he made his final checks. “It’d suit someone as vain as you...”

“Sorry, what was that?” Ganon asked pleasantly, before trotting over and tugging on Link’s left sideburn, hard.

“Ow! What was that for, you git-!”

“Link! Language!” his mother scolded. Link winced, wishing he hadn't been overheard at that exact moment.

"Yeah, Link. Language." Ganon sniggered, grinning smugly. Somehow _he_ hadn’t been overheard, which was completely unfair. Link had the sudden urge to douse his face with red Chu Chu jelly.

She strode quickly down the path with an armful of towering clothes, which looked as if they were about to topple onto the ground. Link groaned inwardly as he took in the amount of baggage they were going to end up with.

“We can’t take all that, it’s too much!” he whined.

“You either take it, or strut around the castle bare.” she told him sternly. He didn’t reply, instead turning away and grumbling.

She turned to Ganon with a strict expression, before softening and leaning up to straighten his collar. Ganon allowed her to do so, his smirk fading to a smile as she smoothed down his clothes. "Look after each other, okay?"

"We'll be _fine_." Link huffed, but his complaints fell on deaf ears. His mother rose to kiss his cheek.

"No funny business. I want to hear that you've been training hard."

"Yeah, yeah, I will. I'll write, or send along a Sheikah orb or something, so you don’t have to worry."

"All right." she smiled, pulling away wistfully. "You had better be off, then. It wouldn't do to be late at your own Trial."

She turned to stand at the gate. Link stalled for time, unwilling to leave so soon. It all hit him at once. He was about to begin his very own Trial, and embark on his own journey away from his parents for the very first time. He wouldn't deny that he was excited, but... he still felt a pang of reluctance as he looked out to his house. The place had been his home for the past thirteen years, and he would miss its familiarity. It was only when he felt a tugging on his sleeve and looked up to see Ganon motioning for them to leave, did he finally start to pull out.

"Wait!"

Surprised, Link craned his neck to find his father hurrying down the lane with Grymhildr in hand. He came to a stop in front of the stallion.  Link watched, his mouth open, as he reached up and presented the great sword to Ganon.

"Here," he offered.

Ganon stared down at the sword in shock, as if the gleaming metal was a foreign object to him. He didn't move for a minute, before quickly clearing his throat.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

His father chuckled. "I haven't much need of it now, since I'm not a knight anymore. Besides, I've got other swords. You're much better with heavier weapons, and I thought it would suit you. Don’t worry,” he added, when Ganon opened his mouth to protest, “I’ve thought this through, and I’m sure of my decision.”

Ganon nodded, awestruck. He gingerly reached out for the sword and accepted it with reverence, peering down into his reflection in the polished blade before strapping it to his back.

"Thank you." he whispered. His father only nodded and clapped him on the back. Link almost felt as if he should complain about how _he_ didn't receive the family heirloom, but kept it back with a slight smile. Ganon really did suit the blade; Link found it difficult to even lift it properly, let alone swing it around. Besides, handing the sword down to Ganon only showed off another tie of his to the family, and he was perfectly fine with that.

At long last he spurred Epona towards the sprawling castle. It easily dwarfed every other building in Hyrule and stretched far into the sky. Numerous spires eclipsed the main palace, which was in itself an intricately carved monolith. The tallest tower, the colossal Astral Observatory, was obscured by the clouds themselves.

Link looked to his house, one last time. His mother waved upon seeing him, and his father was still smiling. It was difficult to make out, but he swore he saw a tissue in his father's hands.

Feeling a burst of warmth and a little bit of longing, Link swivelled in his saddle to face forward and let his skin bask in the sun. The birds twittered from where they perched in the knarled apple tree, and he could feel the world slowly wake and come to life in the early hours.

He urged Epona on until he was next to Ganon, and jabbed him in the shoulder. The indignant squawk of surprise and forceful punch he received only made him laugh harder.

He could feel it. Their adventure was only just beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exams are mostly done, so here's an extra long chapter for the wait. Next time, we get to meet a very special someone over at Hyrule Castle ;)
> 
> As always, comments are so very appreciated! You can always find me at veilsofmist on tumblr.


	4. Glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zelda sneaks a break from the endless dagger-throwing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: the music that opens from the link doesn't have to be listened to while reading. It's only what I was listening to as I wrote this chapter, and what I think the 'background music' would be if this chapter had one. I'll probably include more pieces in the later chapters too.

"Impa," she complained. There was no response.

"Impa." Again, there was nothing.

"Impaaaa..."

Her mentor sighed in exasperation, rubbing at her temples tiredly. Her snow-white hair hung like a curtain down her back instead of being tied in its usual braid, and her crimson eyes flashed as she turned to look at the younger girl.

"Yes, Princess?"

“He did it again!” Zelda groaned.

[Zelda leaned against the burning stone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLzYjhTZmt0) and wiped one hand across her forehead, as the sun beat down without mercy upon the castle. Miraculously, Impa had allowed her some reprieve in the form of a fifteen-minute break; although she hardly thought it enough time for her to catch her breath, let alone ready herself for her next bout of training. Her fingertips were rubbed raw after her prolonged gripping of the dagger handles, and beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks in rivulets.

Impa was unfazed; years of Sheikah training had honed her body and mind – training that seemed exhausting to Zelda was nothing but a warm up for her. Zelda thought this was thoroughly unfair, especially since her own level of skill was no way near her mentor’s, and she had to force herself through endlessly laborious exercises which Impa could probably do with both hands tied behind her back. With the combined sweltering heat and the exertion of training, her thoughts had naturally turned to the frustrating conversation with her father from earlier.

Impa strode over, graceful as always, to stand facing Zelda. “Am I correct in assuming that this is your father we’re talking about?”

“Who else would it be?” Zelda sighed bitterly. She turned to gaze out to the courtyard, Impa watching her every move with an unreadable expression. “I asked him again if I could leave Castletown, only for a little while. I truly thought he would allow me this time, but I wasn’t. Not that it’s a huge surprise.”

For years now, she had wanted to venture outside the castle and into mainland Hyrule. In her studies, the world had seemed so vast, so breathtaking and lively, that she had yearned to visit the places herself and expand her own knowledge through her own experiences. Yet her father had denied her every request: in his own words, the world was ‘too dangerous’ - even when accompanied by an escort of Royal Guards.

 “This may be unwelcome, but you know that he means well for you.” Impa paused before she gave the rest of her answer, as if contemplating how best to counter Zelda’s vexations.  “You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? People have been vanishing into thin air, or washing up dead on the shores of Zora’s Domain without any warning or explanation. He’s worried about you, and rightly so.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he has to restrict me, does it?” Zelda protested. She moved into the shade, pent up frustrations seething with vigour until she couldn’t contain them any longer. “I don’t understand. I’m allowed to train meticulously using proper weapons, but I can’t even use my skills when they’re needed? Does he think I can’t protect myself? I ask him, day after day, if I could just take _one_ look outside Castletown’s walls... but I never get to. All the other noble girls come back, giggling and gossiping from Hylia-knows-where, and they shoot me these _looks_ , and...”

She exhaled slowly, feeling exhaustion replace her outrage. “I know he wants to keep me safe, but sometimes I feel as if he is being _too_ overprotective.” she finally admitted with a dejected sigh.

 Impa let her annoyance fade a little, waiting patiently as Zelda composed herself once again, before she responded.

“I hope you don’t talk about your father like that to anyone else. Goddesses know what would happen if the court heard you moaning in such a way.”

Zelda spun around to glare at Impa, who had begun to smile impishly. “You _know_ I only confide in you about these things,” she snapped.

“I joke, Princess. I only wished to lighten the mood, if only a little.” Impa laced her fingers together before she continued. “I understand that you father seems difficult at the moment, but rest assured; he is acting completely in your interest. The monsters we’ve been receiving reports of are different and deadly, and as such are much more difficult to tackle until we get proper analyses on them. I imagine he simply wants to keep you safe until the threats are eradicated.”

Zelda huffed, although her anger was slightly alleviated. “I still don’t see why I can’t be allowed out without an escort.” she grumbled.

“He hasn’t informed me on his intentions, but I believe His Majesty has good reason.” Impa advised. “And besides, if he really was being unreasonable, than you can be sure that your mother wouldn’t allow it. Her support here means that you needn’t despair.”

Yet again, Impa had managed to soothe her and ease her concerns with only a handful of words. Zelda smiled, and was again grateful that the Goddesses had granted her with a mentor – and a friend – as invaluable as her.

“Thank you, Impa. I feel much better now.”

 “It’s my pleasure, Princess.”

“Zelda,” she corrected automatically. “I’ve told you so many times: call me Zelda. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Impa smiled with acquiescence, but Zelda sensed that she wouldn’t drop the term of respect so soon, even after another one of her countless requests. After all, she had been trying to get her to call her by her name for years now, but Impa simply wouldn’t budge. She truly was like the Sheikah advisor from the legends, and although she was absurdly stubborn, Zelda was proud to call her her teacher. She couldn't imagine anyone else guiding her through her own trials and tribulations.

“I still can’t wait to start my own Arelyth,” Zelda confessed, as she stretched a gloved hand to crack the tension from her muscles. “Freedom at last, or so I hope.”

The Trial of Arelyth was a sacred ritual, and special in its own right. Zelda had watched as countless other girls and boys had left their homes, enviously wishing that it was her who had gotten to leave instead. The time for her to leave for her own was inching closer, much to her delight and excitement, and she often dreamed of the skills that she would acquire from her own journey.

“It isn’t as easy as that,” Impa reminded, bringing her abruptly back from the heavens.

As much as she hated to admit it, Impa was right. The procedure was different for the Royal Family of Hyrule; instead of leaving home at age thirteen, as was customary, the Princesses and Princes of the Royal Family were given a Trial by the Goddess Hylia herself on their eighteenth birthday. As such, it was a rather grand affair; a royal birthday coupled with the bestowal of a sacred Trial was always a cause for celebration for the denizens of Hyrule.

While Zelda wasn't particularly concerned with the birthday gala or the dances she would have to partake in, she certainly looked forward to conversing with Hylia. It was a great honour, and she sorely hoped that she was worthy enough to be blessed and offered her own Trial.

Inside, she knew that her fears were silly, and Impa would reprimand her severely if she spoke of them aloud. However, she wouldn’t deny that they had eaten away at her for a long time now. The legends themselves told of a princess who wasn't able to speak to the Goddess until the world was at its ruin, and through entirely no fault of her own. What if that was to happen to her? What then?

Sensing the sudden drop in atmosphere, Impa sought to offer comforting words– bless her. ”It may be trying, but you're not unprepared, Princess," she reminded. "You've undergone rigorous training since you could walk, and you have improved in the art of combat tremendously. On top of that, you've made a favourable impression on the people of Castletown ever since you were young. The people adore you, and you mustn’t forget that."

"I don't think I've made _that_ much of an impression, Impa." Zelda smiled.  "I just enjoy getting to know everyone."

"Yes, and that inquisitive and kind nature of yours has made you an admirable figure. Your visits to the townsfolk often brighten up their days as well as yours. Don't sell yourself short, Princess," Impa chided. "It was only last week when I was accosted by a young boy named Conrad, who demanded that he be let into the castle just to see you again."

"Oh! I remember him!" Zelda laughed. "I played hide and seek with him and a couple of his friends. What did you tell him after he came?"

"I tried to bribe him with sweets. He only left after I promised him that he would see you again the next day. Of course, he pocketed the sweets too, when he thought I was looking away." Impa said thoughtfully, before laughing after seeing Zelda's incredulous expression. She straightened from where she was leaning on the railing and looked directly into Zelda’s eyes.

"All I mean to say is that you are well-loved and respected among the people; an attribute that every member of the Royal Family desires, but has a hard time acquiring. Your friendly nature and energetic desire to understand the townsfolk has made you lovable, and frankly, I've never seen a Crown Princess so revered among her subjects. I know with certainty that you will do absolutely fine in your Trial."

Zelda pulled at her sleeve, suddenly embarrassed. "Impa, you give me too much credit..."

"I gave you credit where it is due." Impa said firmly. "You should believe in yourself more. Your people, your parents, your friends – we all believe in you."

"But I am still so naive," she argued. "How could I possibly-"

"Enough," her mentor interrupted. "Naivety will be resolved in due course with experience, so you needn't worry over it. It is nothing you can't rectify in time. Now come; let us return to your training. I have a feeling you’ve had far too long of a break."

Suppressing a grumble, Zelda hurried to fall in step beside Impa as she proceeded towards her private training grounds. She wouldn't deny that her words brought her some relief, but she also wasn't completely convinced about her own potential.  She supposed that she would find out how worthy she really was when the time came.

Now, she had another lovely bout of drills to look forward to, which would probably leave her with more aches and pains than all of the Hyrulean soldiers put together. Zelda understood that her training was necessary, but surely a day off wouldn’t be _too_ much to ask...

“Zelda!”

Both she and Impa spun around to see who had called her name, although Zelda had already recognised the voice with a surge of joy. Hurrying, or rather striding purposefully, down the path was Myna, one of the High Priestesses’ daughters. Her primly curled hair billowed behind her as she walked, and the scarlet apples she was carrying bounced and rolled in the wicker basket cradled in her arms. Her face wore her default haughty expression, although it was lifted with a slight, nearly unnoticeable smile. Zelda knew that the smile was mirrored in her own; Myna was not only her fellow student in her lessons, but also one of her closest friends.

Setting aside her basket on the floor, Myna outstretched both arms and pulled Zelda into a sisterly hug.  She was much shorter and stouter than Zelda and had a hard time trying to reach Zelda’s shoulders, but she never failed to overpower the other with her astonishing strength. Their fierce embrace was cut short when Myna pulled away abruptly.

"You've been training again, haven't you?" she accused. "You smell utterly dreadful!"

“Hello to you too, Myna.” Zelda laughed.

"Why didn't you tell me before? Now my dress is ruined!" she lamented. "I'll have you know that I bought this only last week, and I specifically ordered for it to be made out of Faron silk. It's going to smell absolutely horrid now!"

"Oh, hush. Just give it to one of the maids, and they'll wash it for you. It'll be as good as new."

“ _Faron silk_ , Zelda. _Faron silk_. You cannot simply wash it and expect it to be as good as new!”

“Oh, fine! I’ll give you rupees if it’ll stop your whining!”

Myna laughed affectionately, switching from her dramatic wailing to a teasing expression in an instant. “I’m joking, dear. While you might have made me smell unpleasant...” she sniffed pointedly, “I’m not about to hold it against you. I’ll hand it to the laundrywomen later.”

“Oh, but of course, it’s definitely not like you to hold century-long grudges, is it?” Zelda teased.

Myna lightly slapped her arm, before pivoting gracefully on one pointed heel to beam at Impa.

“Good morning, Impa. I hope you’ve been well.”

“As well as I can be, Myna.” Impa greeted. “The princess has just been trying to extend her break, that’s all.”

“It’s not my fault your drills are so _tiring_ , Impa,” Zelda muttered, as Myna gave a tinkling laugh.

“You wouldn’t mind if I talked with her for a while? Only five minutes,” Myna reassured, “and I’ll allow her to resume her torture.”

Impa, blessedly deciding to ignore Myna’s quip, gave an affirmative nod. “Try not to take too long. The Princess has to finish her exercises by midday at the latest.”

“Oh, don’t worry. She’ll definitely be back before then.”” Myna assured, much to Zelda’s chagrin. She gestured for Zelda to follow, and led her along the allure towards the towering archway. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you about the new cohort of knights.”

Flares of excitement shot through Zelda, like an electric spark. “Already?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. It _is_ the summer solstice, after all. But I rather wanted to talk to you about the incident in Castletown yesterday. Did you hear about it?”

“Incident?”

Myna linked an arm through Zelda’s and started to pull her towards the wall, before continuing. “Apparently – now, don’t quote me on this – but apparently, a boy lost control of his horse and tumbled into Central Fountain during the minstrels’ performance. It was supposedly quite the sight.”

Zelda held a hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggles. “What happened to him afterwards?”

“His brother helped him out of the water, before informing the gatekeeper that they were due at the castle for their Trial. The guard didn’t believe them after the younger boy’s spectacle, so he laughed at the both of them before turning them away. Now, here comes the interesting part: apparently, the guard’s words sparked the ire of the older brother. He challenged him to duel, right then and there, at the castle gates, and the guard accepted it, mocking him all the while.”

Zelda sighed. “The sentry didn't think his actions through at all, did he... What happened in their duel?”

“The maids tell me that the brother won, and in the span of... what was it, half a minute? They say that he was exceptionally skilled. He had barely executed a couple of attacks before the man shouted that he was yielding.”

“Wow. He isn’t even a trainee?” Zelda questioned in wonder.

“No, he hadn’t even enlisted yet. He only took action after his little brother was insulted. It’s quite sweet, don’t you think? That sort of brotherly love is one to be treasured.” Myna smiled appreciatively. “Even Commander Beatrix took a shining to him. She even requested that he be pardoned, and managed to prevent any arrest.”

“It can’t be,” Zelda gasped. “Commander Beatrix? You’re not making this up?”

“I was surprised, too. There’s a rumour going around that she intends to take him under her wing. Given his fighting prowess and tenacity, it wouldn’t be a bad decision; we haven’t seen a trainee like him since Sonya arrived. He’s been placed in the Third Legion, while his little brother was put in the Seventh Legion, under Commander Reynard. Look,” Myna pointed towards the training yard, “there’s the Seventh Legion. I might be able to show you the younger one, if you want.”

She swept along to the railing, Zelda catching up soon after. Her eyes scanned the rows of trainees, searching each and every one of them with intense concentration.

The Seventh Legion was made up of junior knights, below the age of sixteen. Zelda recalled from her studies that the Hylian and Gerudo soldiers made up the Legions numbering from the First Legion to the Twelfth, whereas the Rito and Zora had special Squadrons of their own, which were tailored to suit their fighting styles. The Hyrulean Army was well organised, although it was only ordered in such a way after the consequences of the disastrous wars which littered Hyrule’s history. In the past, the Army hadn’t been enough to defend Hyrule during the rise of the Fallen King, so her great-grandfather had taken control of and disciplined the troops himself by dividing the soldiers into specialised Legions and purging the traitors protected by their high positions. It had taken years, but now Hyrule’s military forces were competent, and large in number. If a crisis ever arose, they would be well prepared to protect the land.

Finally, Myna gave an ‘oh’ of surprise, and pointed towards the last row.

“There!” she whispered. Zelda stretched on her toes to get a better look at who she was supposed to be staring at. Her eyes roamed until they settled on the direct target of Myna’s finger.

“The one with the brown hair?” Zelda asked. At Myna’s affirmation, she craned her neck to get a better look at the boy.

His short stature made him stand out like a golden Cucco. His head barely poked out from behind the other trainees; even the blonde teenager flanking him, who barely reached the top of the notice board, managed to tower over him. The boy’s dark brown hair, the colour of morning coffee, seemed to be drawn into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, but that was the extent of how much she could make out of his appearance from the height of the allure she was standing on.

All the trainees wore identical uniforms: porcelain white contrasting a midnight blue, as was the custom ever since the introduction of the colours of the Royal Family. He wore a solemn expression, far too solemn for just the introduction session, and Zelda had to actively fight back the grin that threatened to spread across her face at the sight of his comical stoicism.

“The Third Legion has already begun their training, so I don’t think you can see them now,” Myna’s voice floated in the distance as Zelda stared out into the training yard. Commander Reynard had started his initiation speech, and everyone – the boy included – had snapped up their heads to listen intently. “I suppose you will carry out your rounds again now that the new cohort is here?”

“Yes...” Zelda murmured, not paying Myna’s words any real attention. Myna scrutinised her for a long moment, before rolling her eyes and turning her back on the knights.

“No one has ever caught your attention like that,” she commented. “What, is he special?”

“W-What?” Zelda spluttered, shaking herself out of her reverie. “No, he’s not special. I was only intrigued, that’s all. I mean, he fell into the Central Fountain!”

“Mm hmm,” Myna gave her a knowing look; the one she hated so much, because it meant that she knew something and Zelda didn’t. Or that she was incorrectly assuming something, which was even worse.

“Oh, Myna, I said I was intrigued - nothing else!”

“Intrigued by who?”

Zelda groaned inwardly as Impa joined the pair, flicking her ivory hair (which she noticed was now braided) over her back. Once again she had crept up on them, as silent as a cat, and Zelda had failed to detect her. Knowing Impa, she had probably heard their whole conversation...

“Nothing,” she answered hastily. “I was just inspecting the Seventh Legion.” She prayed that Impa had somehow lessened her sharp intuition in the few moments that she was gone.

“Well, Princess, I happened to overhear that you had taken particular interest in a boy?” Impa questioned, one arched eyebrow quirking skyward. This time Zelda groaned audibly, as Myna erupted into a fit of giggles in the background.

“Impa, not you too,” she begged. “I already told Myna that I just wanted to see what he looked like, nothing else!”

Impa gave her what she could only assume was a stern, motherly glare, before her mouth twitched into a smirk. “Well, if you’ve finished gawking at that trainee, I think it’s high time we returned to your own training, don’t you?”

“...I take back my words. That boy is very interesting, and I wouldn’t mind staring at him, preferably for another couple of hours. That’s fine by you, isn’t it, Myna?”

Zelda’s protests trailed off into thin air as she was dragged away by the Sheikah warrior. It made for what _would’ve_ been a shameful display for the Crown Princess, but the castle was used to Impa bodily throwing Zelda over one shoulder whenever she expressed her desire for truancy. Being physically hauled to her lessons wasn’t unexpected by the people who encountered the sight on a daily basis. Myna fluttered her fingers at her in a dainty wave, and she responded – rather unbecomingly – by sticking out her tongue.

Once she was at the entrance of the archway, Zelda stole one last glance at the Legion, and at the boy. He was still focused on Commander Reynard.

Later, when the boy looked up towards the walkway, she was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I found it so much easier to write from Zelda's POV than Link's, but I don't know why. Also, please leave comments! While kudos are lovely to see, comments especially make my day even brighter.
> 
> As always, my tumblr is [veilsofmist](http://veilsofmist.tumblr.com).


	5. Link Punches A Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link trips people up, decks a fellow cadet and completely discards all common sense. All in his first year.
> 
> In other words: he becomes a typical teenager stumbling through life.

In Link’s opinion, his Trial hadn’t started off on the wrong foot. It was more like his Trial had started off on a foot twisted completely back to front; full of pain, agony and plain humiliation.

He grimaced upon remembering the embarrassment of yesterday morning. It seemed that letting go of Epona’s reins for even one second was a signal for her to lurch forward and gallop without warning, and he had been thrown headfirst into the massive fountain which stood proudly in Central Square. Ganon had defended him, sure, but that still didn’t muffle the pangs of shame Link felt whenever he heard the soldiers snickering at him from the shadows.

The leader of the Seventh Legion, Commander Reynard, was giving his initiation speech. Annoyingly, Link couldn’t see him very well over the giants that surrounded him; but he _could_ make out a head covered by black hair, sporting a full beard, and bobbing up and down with every inspiring sentence. All his words were along the lines of ‘ _duty to Hyrule’_ and _‘honour’_ and _‘respect’_ , but Link found that his thoughts kept straying to his time in the fountain, and the cruel laughter of the people. He felt nothing but gloom.

"That’s probably the biggest frown I’ve ever seen on a guy,” an amused voice drawled from his right, startling Link out of his misery.

Without looking too suspicious, Link inched his head to the side to see who had spoken. The voice belonged to a grinning teenager, with a mop of sandy blonde hair even more unruly than his own; all tanned skin and bright brown eyes to match. It was with a twinge of disappointment that Link realised: this boy was _another_ person who was taller than him.

"Mm hmm." He didn't feel like giving a proper response, so he returned his attention back onto the dais. Ordinarily he would have quipped back with a snarky response, but today he was overcome by a glumness that left him exhausted.

To his irritation, the boy seemed adamant in trying to get Link to talk with him - in the _middle of their initiation ceremony._ “Gee, you don’t have to look so sad already! We haven’t even started! I mean, this knight business can’t be _that_ tough, you know..."

“Shh!” he whispered fiercely.

“Don’t worry, they can’t hear us,” the boy whispered back in a conspiratorial tone, completely overlooking Link’s attempts to get him to quieten. Link was starting to believe that he was as oblivious as a rock. “The soldiers are kinda deaf, especially through those stuffy helmets they’re wearing. But anyway, tell me. Why do you look like you’ve just made out with a Talus?"

 “If I tell you, will you be quiet?” Link hissed, through gritted teeth.

The boy smiled even wider, if that was even possible. His triumphant grin already took up half of his face. “Depends,” he answered slyly, and Link repressed the urge to set fire to his toes. How difficult could one person get?

“Fine,” he bit out. “I lost control of my horse, tumbled into a massive fountain and embarrassed myself in front of the entire population of Castletown. Happy?”

To his dismay, the boy’s eyes widened with what seemed like... realisation _._ _Oh no._

“I knew it!” he exclaimed loudly, punching the air before hastily bringing his hand down again and covering his mouth with a guilty look. “You’re Link, aren’t you? Ganon’s little brother?”

“...Yes,” Link sighed, giving up trying to repel this boy. Dejectedly, he wondered how far his mishap had really spread. “I guess you heard, too?”

“You bet I did! Riding into Castletown on horseback, all majestic and striking, falling into the fountain waters and then fighting off the castle guards with your _bare hands?_ How cool is that?”

Link had to physically check that a fly hadn’t wandered into his mouth; he was sure that it had been hanging open during the boy's excited recount. How exactly could one story get so corrupted when it passed around by word of mouth?

“Er,” he began awkwardly, “that’s not... that’s not exactly how it happened...”

“Nah, it’s good, you don’t have to get all humble on me,” the boy winked, “I know how you people are. But you’ve _got_ to introduce me to your brother. I heard that he took down that guard with _one move!_ Man, who _does_ that?”

“Actually, I think it was-“

“Silence!” a soldier barked from behind the two, clanking his lance violently upon the ground. “The Commander is speaking!”

The boy rolled his eyes, before focusing his attention squarely on the Commander. “Funny how they suddenly become really good at hearing whenever _I_ start a conversation,” he muttered at Link, who had to fight back a reluctant snicker of his own.

Later, when Commander Reynard had finished outlining their duties towards Hyrule and their pledge of allegiance towards the Royal Family, Link learned that they were due to embark on their first march as a new cohort - immediately. The prospect left him with fleeting panic, since he had never marched properly before, but he figured that it couldn’t be too difficult. It seemed as if all they had to do was walk in an orderly fashion, with some semblance of authority.

_Famous last words, Link._

He lost count of the beats he missed, the number of times he raised his left arm instead of his right, and the hushed corrections the blonde boy nudged him with whenever he did something even _slightly_ wrong. Marching definitely wasn’t simple, not at all, and he had been stupid when he had underestimated it. Link thought wryly that this what he got for waving things off until they became a very real and quite inescapable problem.

“Watch it!” a girl hissed when he unwittingly stepped on her heel, glowering at him when he apologised with stumbling words.

The sparring wasn’t any better. Link was overjoyed upon finding out that he wasn't as awful at swordplay as he had been at marching, although his happiness was short lived. He wasn't the _worst_ with his sword, but he wasn't the best either. The people he sparred with were either complete beginners or absolute professionals; there seemed to be no one in-between, so he was stuck by himself.

He was mortified when he was pinned down by someone half his size. Muttering a unenthusiastic ‘yield’, he wished he was shorter for the first time in his life, if only to reduce the embarrassment a little.

Above all, the constant jeers and raucous hollering of the rich, upper-class kids was enormously distracting. It was nothing like Myrrha, where the laughter was jolly and welcome, and he found that the incessant noise buzzed around his head even after he moved far away from the dim-witted crowds. He didn’t mind noise too much anymore, but this was noise amplified to a frustrating degree. If his ears could talk, they would probably be screaming at him to ride far, _far_ away from the castle, his Trial be damned. Ruefully, Link wondered how Ganon was getting on.

Then, just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, an ominous shadow loomed over the ground where he sat. Throat dry, he looked up. It was a hulking brute of a teenager who had swaggered up to him, hooting cronies in tow, and looking altogether far too arrogant for his liking.

“Hey, kid,” he sneered, his voice immediately putting Link on edge. This guy was nearly as huge as Ganon and easily towered over him, although that was where the similarities ended. His face was twisted into an ugly snigger, and his lips jutted out like a squashed frog. Link mentally sent his apologies to the people related to him. “I heard that you and your brother took on a castle guard this morning. How about you try and take me on, huh? See if you’re good enough?”

“I’m all right, thanks,” Link answered shortly, tilting his head to stare him directly in the eyes.

“Aww, is the wittle boy scared?” the other mocked, as his cronies erupted into jeers around him. Link’s dislike for the moron soared to impossibly high levels. "Is it because he can't fight without his big brother? How _cute!"_

Closing his eyes, Link fought to maintain his composure. This boy was _really_ getting on his nerves. “I can fight perfectly fine,” he said icily, before turning on his heel and walking away. It took all of his willpower not to clobber the boy with his shield, but the more rational part of him urged him to avoid make a scene on his first day.

“Not that your brother was any good in the first place,” the boy continued from behind him, and Link stopped. His blood froze and raged in his ears, and he wasn't aware of his fists clamping at his sides until the pressure of his nails digging into his palms became quite painful to bear.

“I’m sorry. What?” Link said quietly, his voice hoarse and dangerous. The world seemed to have muted, as if he was underwater, and all he could focus on was the _utter bastard_ who had the _audacity_ to insult his own brother-

“You heard me,” the boy goaded. “People say that he beat the guard in under a minute. Pfft! How stupid! He’s a Gerudo, and everyone knows that they’re just a bunch of uncivilised whores-“

The boy never finished his sentence. Link wasn’t aware of whirling around to face the boy, nor of drawing back one arm, but the next thing he knew his fist had sunk into pudgy flesh and blood had spattered on his knuckles-

“Link, stop! LINK!”

Someone was yelling as a pair of wiry arms wrapped around his middle, but he flailed and fought to escape his bonds. The other boy was snarling; it seemed that he had done something to his nose from the way he was hiding his face, but Link found that he didn’t care so much as he pried open the fingers that restricted him-

“What is the meaning of this?”

The blonde boy from earlier immediately released his grip from Link as Commander Reynard marched towards the three of them, his usual genial smile replaced by a severe frown. The entire training yard came to a halt as the cadets swerved around their partners, creating a clear path for the Commander, and all eyes swivelled in their direction. As Link’s rugged breathing steadied and his panting quietened, his mind gradually began to clear of the raging fog that had taken over his senses. It was with a sluggish understanding that he realised he had already been noticed by his superior, and not for praise.

“Well?” the Commander demanded, crossing his arms. “Do either one of you want to explain why you’re fighting like uncouth ruffians, even after I specifically ordered you _not to draw blood?”_

The other boy immediately grabbed his chance to complain. "He punched me!" he snarled, pointing an accusing finger at Link, gushes of blood spurting out of his nostrils.

“He insulted my family,” Link replied darkly.

“Sir, he broke my nose!”

“He-“

“Enough!” the Commander interrupted. "Both of you, in my office, now. You too," he added sternly, gesturing at the blonde boy, who merely nodded, his typical grin having vanished.

 “I haven’t seen such disgusting behaviour from the Seventh Legion in my entire _life,”_ the Commander said coldly as he walked away, and with a plummeting feeling Link realised that his day had become much worse than he had first imagined.

* * *

 

The three of them ascended the castle stairs in silence. Only the brute shot dirty glances at Link, who couldn't muster up enough energy to retaliate, anyway. Their climb was painstakingly endless, Link wearily trudging his feet along each stair, until finally they reached the heavy oaken door with the royal insignia painted proudly across its front. He hesitated, before settling a shaky hand on the doorknob.

“Let’s just get this over and done with,” the blonde boy whispered, patting Link’s back as (what he assumed was) an encouraging motion. Link was suddenly glad that he had a friendly face with him; and with renewed courage, he slowly pushed open the door.

The room was not at all what he expected. Instead of stone slabs and grim altars - or something akin to a torture chamber - the door opened to ivory walls and baby blue flowers flourishing atop the window sill. The tables were white, the chairs were white, even the crockery was white. Judging from the sharp intake of breath beside him, the blonde boy was also surprised, and he turned to see him staring around the room in unbridled awe.

Commander Reynard sat in the chair at the far end of the room, next to an arching window that Link presumed overlooked the training grounds. He turned to face them at the sound of their entrance, Link physically feeling his courage nosediving into the void, and gestured for them to come closer.

“Sit,” he ordered, and they took their chairs hurriedly, “and give your names.”

“My name is Link, sir,” he said nervously.

“Flynne, sir.” The blonde boy – or Flynne – also said.

The last boy waited, before muttering a sullen, “Hozai. Sir.”

"Link, Flynne, Hozai." Reynard laced his fingers together, settling them on the table as he stared critically at the three of them. "Explain yourselves. Why was it that you were fighting so viciously?"

Hozai burst in before Link could get a word out. "It was him, sir," he pointed, "he was the one who punched me! I didn't even touch him!"

"That's not true!" Link protested quickly. "He insulted my brother. I didn't hit him for no reason!"

Reynard narrowed his eyes at Hozai, who Link was pleased to see had withered slightly under his gaze, before also looking disapprovingly at Link. "And this couldn't be resolved with words? You are knights in training, and I expect you to settle any conflict in a mature manner; not by foolhardily resorting to your fists."

"Sir, I didn't even say anything about his brother." Hozai scoffed, regaining his disdainful mask.

"That's not true," Link said, calmer this time. "You called the Gerudo 'uncivilised', and," he paused, before continuing, "a 'bunch of whores'."

"You have no proof," Hozai sneered. "And that doesn't mean I was talking about your brother."

"You mentioned Ganon’s name, so you definitely _were_ talking about him.”

"Well, you-"

Reynard held up a hand, halting their argument. “Cease. This petty argument is producing nothing. Hozai, the claims against you are disturbing, and if they are true, then you must be rightly disciplined. Link, you cannot escape punishment either; hitting a fellow solder with no good reason is prohibited, and rightly so, for it is a great disgrace. However," he paused, and Link’s heart sank, "I cannot pass judgement, because I wasn't there at the time, and so I have no idea which - indeed, if any – of you are telling the truth..."

"Sir, he insulted my family," Link pleaded. "I guess I should've walked away... _faster_ , but I didn’t hit him to cause him pain-“– he couldn’t get disqualified from his Trial, no, no, _no-_

“He’s obviously fibbing, I didn’t say a _thing_ about his brother-“

“Actually,” Flynne piped up, and Link felt like kissing him at that moment because Flynne was a _godsend_ , “Hozai’s lying. Link tried to walk away, sir, even when his brother’s skill was undermined, but Hozai kept throwing taunts at his back. He only snapped when he called the Gerudo a race of harlots.”

Link knew that Flynne had exaggerated at the last part, but he didn’t care; the intervention had worked. There were now two claims against one, and Reynard had cleared his throat and shifted his piercing gaze from him onto Hozai. Hozai seemed to realise that he had lost, too, because his face twisted into an ugly snarl directed no-so-discreetly in Link's direction.

“Is this true, Hozai?”

Hozai clenched his fists furiously and refused to speak, giving Reynard all the answer he needed.

“Hozai,” Reynard began in a grim voice. “You have, on your very first day, broken the Hyrulean Army’s Code of Conduct. You have freely insulted a fellow soldier and provoked him, even going as far as to racially abuse his own brother. Furthermore, instead of confessing and repenting, you went on to lie in an attempt to obscure your wrongdoings. We do not tolerate crimes of this sort, so for your mistakes, I am sentencing you to three months of shadow duty.  

“You will rise at dawn, every day, and follow Commander Beatrix, completing every task she requires of you. Whenever you are not performing your duties, you will remain outside her chamber. In addition to this, I am excluding you from any recreational activities that the Seventh Legion partakes in for the next season.”

Hozai’s face twisted into an even uglier snarl, which Link didn’t think was possible from the amount it had contorted already.

“I hope you learn from your mistakes,” Reynard continued, “and that you do not repeat them again. You may leave, Hozai.”

Hozai got up, and saluted Reynard rather stiffly. Link swore he heard him utter sinister curses as he shut the door with more force that was needed on his way out.

“I hope you realise that you are both not getting out of this scot-free, either,” Reynard said gravely, once Hozai had left. “The latrines are in a desperate need of a thorough cleansing, and I’m thinking of sending you there.” He still regarded them sternly; however, there was a much warmer look in his eyes. If Link had to put a word to his expression, he would’ve called it _fatherly_.

“Yes,” they both chorused, giddy with relief.

“I will have to write to your parents too,” he added, throwing Link’s relief straight out of the window. Flynne had also frozen, with a mournful look that clearly screamed: _I’m screwed._

“Sir,” Link started to say, hesitating, “is it possible that our parents be left out of this?”

“I’m afraid not, Link. All acts of physical violence are reported to the soldiers’ next of kin, whether you are the victim or the perpetrator. They have the right to know.”

Link sighed, finding no suitable counter. Reynard rummaged through his drawer, and Flynne used the distraction to mouth a silent “ _Help!”_ at Link with a face like a lost puppy. Despite their predicament, Link smiled. The punishment wasn’t too harsh by any means, but it was certainly lighter when he shared it with someone.

At last, Reynard reappeared from under the desk with a pair of glass-like marbles, which Link recognised immediately as Sheikah orbs. They were transparent, but emanated an eerie violet hue; translucent clouds filtering through its surface and partially obscuring the single eye covering its core. They were said to resemble crystal balls, but were inherently more useful and much more alluring.

“Put in your parents’ names and addresses. I’ll finish the actual message after I’ve sent you off.”

Link waited for the alphabet to appear, before inputting his mother's name. His father was far less scary whenever he misbehaved, but he knew that his mother would find out eventually, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He figured he should face her wrath sooner than later; it was definitely not something to be trifled with, and coming clean was _much_ safer than hiding. Hiding from his mother had never worked; not once in the thirteen years he had lived. He shuddered as he recalled the cooker incident, just as Flynne finished with his orb, and quickly rolled his own towards Reynard.

Reynard caught them both with a deft snatch and dropped them in a tall glass of neon blue liquid; Sheikah water, only to be used with Sheikah technology. The water kept the orbs fresh before they were used and sent to the recipient, although Link had no idea how they worked.

“Evynne?” the Commander questioned upon inspecting the characters, and Link nodded. “Your mother is called Evynne?”

“Yes, sir. My father is called Cadmus, and my mother Evynne. They’re both in Myrrha Village.”

To his astonishment, Reynard began to smile. “It’s quite fitting that Cadmus and Evynne’s son should perform his Trial of Arelyth at Hyrule Castle.”

“You knew my parents, sir?” Link asked curiously.

“Yes, very well. Your father and I served as knights together in the Second Legion, many years ago, and your mother worked as a healer in the Royal Infirmary. Although sometimes I still think that your mother should’ve been in the Legion herself,” he chuckled, and Link revelled in the gloriously fresh information he was unexpectedly acquiring.

“What were they like, here?” he asked eagerly.

“Your father was - dare I say it? - perpetually drowsy, and your mother had the fierceness of a Molduga, with kindness to rival our own Queen’s. But now is not the time to talk about your parents. The hour grows late, and both of you are expected in bed by eleven.” At Link’s disappointed look, he added, “There will be many opportunities for us to converse about them. My door is always open, but now both of you should be going back to your quarters. You may go.”

Link and Flynne rose from their seats, Link a little reluctantly, but ultimately relieved for the end of their interrogation. They hadn’t escaped unscathed, but nothing too terrible had happened. They were still in the Legion. His Trial hadn’t been put at risk.

“And please close the door softly! It is new, and I don’t want it broken.”

Link closed the door with little force as requested, and turned away from it smiling for the first time in the whole day.

* * *

 

“Aw, sweet! We got told off – and then let off – on our first day!” Flynne cheered as they exited the building.

“Sweet?” Link echoed incredulously. The Commander’s proper punishment had been relayed to them by a messenger, and his happiness had switched to indignance in an instant. “How is getting a month’s worth of toilet duty _sweet?_ We just got scolded by our own commanding officer! And I thought you said your parents were going to slaughter you?”

“Eh, I’ll just avoid going home for a few days, that’s all. Anyway, it’s a good story for the ladies.” Flynne winked at Link, who rolled his eyes and sped up his pace.

“So, you’re one of those people, huh?” he commented. “I can’t say anything, though, because you did save me back there.” Link stopped, and offered his partner a grin. “Thanks, by the way. Who knows what would’ve happened if Commander Reynard didn’t believe me?”

“It’s no problem. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Flynne said cheerfully. “Besides, that guy’s a dickhead.”

His flippant use of the word nearly caused Link to trip over the stairs. “What?” Link spluttered.

Flynne grinned. “Well, he is!”

“Your mouth is _filthy_.” Link complained. “If someone heard you-“

“Don’t worry, I’m an expert in controlling my mouth.” Flynne waggled his eyebrows at Link in a ridiculously promiscuous manner, causing him to groan in despair.

“I’d say you were awful, actually,” he snorted, before playfully smacking Flynne’s shoulder with a broad grin.

* * *

 

"Widen your stance. Drop your left arm by five centimetres, and bend your knee by two. What are you doing? Never take your eyes off the target!  Also, raise your right arm until its hovering by your ear; just like that!"

“I can’t remember all that in one go, Gan!” Link moaned, trying to adjust until he was meeting all of Ganon’s absurdly high requirements. The bow was impossibly uncomfortable in his hands, and his legs were aching like they had when Flynne had tried to bench-press him with a stick. (He had failed.)

“You’ll have to, if you want to get better at archery,” Ganon reminded. “Now, watch.”

He moved into a confident position in one fluid motion; lifting his bow and fixing his gaze squarely on the target. Effortlessly he pulled back the arrow, and checked his aim one final time before letting it fly. It whistled through the air, before neatly embedding itself in the miniscule yellow centre.

"See? Just like that. It's not hard."

"Easy for you to say." Link grumbled. "Most of my arrows don't even hit."

"What, you thought I was born handling a bow like a cherub?" Ganon scoffed. "I practised, Link, A lot."

"Well, I practise, too!" Link protested. "It just doesn't seem to work for me. Maybe I’m not really cut out for this...”

It was a thought that had invaded his mind after days of failed practices, multiplying like a nasty tumour and knocking bricks at his self-esteem until he couldn't bear looking at a bow anymore. It wasn’t the first time he had failed at something, but this time he had looked at his peers. No one was as awful as _he_ was with a bow, and if he couldn’t even nock an arrow properly...

“Oh, cut the crap, already.” Ganon scoffed. “You’re more than good enough become a knight. Listen: you wouldn’t believe the amount of spineless cowards I come across on my patrols. The other day, a bunch of them encountered a Lizalfos terrorising these two travellers. Guess what they did?”

“They... ran off?” he guessed, despondent.

“Exactly.” Ganon rolled his eyes in disgust. “Link, you might be an idiot-“

“Hey!”

“-but you’re definitely not a coward.”

That was... surprisingly nice of him. “Thanks, Gan.” Link finally smiled. “I like to think that, too.”

“Stop being so self-deprecating, for Din’s sake. You’re honestly not even that bad. Look, try again. Practice makes... well, not perfect, but it makes you better, anyway. Go on, try another.”

Filled with renewed determination, Link rolled his shoulders and stuck another arrow onto the bowstring. The Seventh Legion was on their lunch break, and Link found that the archery corner was a lot less daunting when no one was around. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

He lifted the bow, pulled back the arrow until the string was taut, and let it fly.

The arrow didn’t even graze. Link cursed under his breath.

“What was that?” Ganon asked sharply. “Did you just swear?”

“No!” Link promised hurriedly, although he was wearily grateful for the change in subject. Once again, he had failed. “Of course not. I would never.”

After the absolute _battlefield_ that was his mother’s response to the Hozai Incident, he had tried diligently to keep his nose out of trouble. Of course, his mother had to send a private letter to Ganon, probably containing the usual waffle about how he had to _look after Link_ and make sure he _stayed on the path of justice_ and whatever else. Ganon, for his part, actually _listened_ to her letters (which was weird in itself; Ganon didn’t listen to just _anyone_ ), and Link had found himself being watched over the past few days. He had been expecting it, honestly. Ganon was about as subtle as a Hinox in a dress.

“Hm.” Ganon didn’t say anything else, but continued to survey Link with a strange look. He made a mental note to control his tongue, and also to plug his ears with wax whenever Flynne started on one of his woeful monologues.

Before Ganon could question Link further, ringing resonated from the Clocktower. They looked up to an enormous, golden bell swaying side to side; long, loud peals reverberating throughout the air with every impact it made with its walls. Three chimes sounded, harmonious yet commanding, before their surroundings quietened again.

“Well, that’s me,” Ganon yawned, stowing his bow into the wooden chest. He ruffled Link’s hair, fluffing it up until it looked like an angry Cucco, before stretching his arms high above his head.”See you at dinner?”

“Yeah. Bye, Gan.”

“Keep practising!”

It was only after Ganon had left, did Link allow himself to sigh properly. Even Ganon's raw encouragement wasn't enough to improve Link's archery, it seemed. Nothing was more discouraging than failure, and every shot he took ended in failure.

It was completely unfair. Link had taken great lengths to practise in secret, enlisting only Ganon's help, hoping to land _at least_ three consecutive hits, but _nothing had worked._ Flynne was brilliant with his bow, although he was careful not to swing it around too much in front of him. Link was grateful, but it only further added to his frustration; clearly, his terrible archery was so evident that others felt sorry for him. The Commander himself had offered him tutoring, but Link had politely turned him down; he desperately wanted to try and improve on his own, without anyone’s assistance. It was silly, and only his pride talking, but there was always that shame that nagged at him whenever he asked someone for help.

If things came to the absolute worst, he would request the Commander's help, but for now he wanted to try and get _something by_ himself, even if it would take years. However, his efforts just weren't producing any results, and Link was close to throwing the damned weapon down and giving up.

It wasn't fair. How was it that some people could master a new skill so quickly, whereas he couldn't even control the art that his father had tried to teach him for years?

Link sighed, and decided to take a break. Maybe that would clear his head and he would land a hit with rested fingers– or maybe nothing would come after it, and he would be just as awful as before. He laid his bow on the ground and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position, before completely flopping onto his back, letting the cool grass tickle his skin.  The clouds floated lazily across the sky, and he squinted when the sun's rays fell across his face.

It really was a lovely day. Slowly he let his eyelids close, promising himself five minutes of rest before he would get up to train again. Or perhaps he could even take a nap; surely that would be even better, since he’d be well rested and alert...

_WHOOSH._

Link shot up, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare of the sun and reaching blindly for his bow. He stumbled to his feet and brandished it in the direction of the sound; of course, his only weapon had to be his worst, but there was nothing he could do. He stilled completely, waiting for the source of the sound to appear while scanning his surroundings for any movement.

It was then that he noticed the target that he had been using, and he dropped the bow with a silent gasp.

Instead of only one arrow implanted in the middle, there were two; or rather, another one had split Ganon’s arrow through its shaft, and had claimed the victory of the target.

“I suppose that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Link whirled around, almost tripping over his feet, to face the person the voice belonged to. It was a girl; dressed in simple purple tunic and black slacks, with bright golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, framing skin the colour of cinnamon, and wearing a pleased grin. She hopped nimbly from the rock she was perched on, and strolled over to where Link was standing.

She examined her own shot. Link regarded her arrow with a twinge of jealousy, although his curiosity ultimately squashed its rival down.

“Who are you?” he asked bluntly.

“Oh... I’m just a guest. I’m staying at the castle for a little while,” she answered, but Link noticed that she did so with a sidelong glance. She picked up his bow, turning it over in her hands before offering it to him. “I noticed that you were having trouble with your archery.”

Did _everyone_ in the entire castle know of his troubles? “...Yes,” he admitted ruefully. “I’m not exactly great.”

“Then, let me help!” the girl exclaimed, clapping her hands together with startling excitement. Link was taken aback at her sudden escalation in demeanour. Since when did people give up their time so freely just to help a boy struggling with his knightly duties? And a castle guest, at that?

“Um, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do?” Link began, slightly awkward. “I’ll be here until the seventh bell rings, so...” He trailed off when the girl pushed his own bow into his chest, knocking him backwards.

“Not at all,” she said cheerfully, and Link was starting to wonder how he was meeting so many strange people in just one season. “Besides,” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she glanced around at her surroundings, “I’m hiding from someone, and that someone happens to be a _very_ talented seeker, but I know that she won’t be here for a long time yet. You could say that I’m practising concealing myself.”

“You seem very sure about that.” He pointed out.

She grinned. “Of course. She’ll look in the library first, then my bedr- the guest rooms, and then the archery yard in the West Wing. I don’t usually come here, so I doubt she’ll come here so soon.”

He was still wondering why she singled _him_ out, of all people, but decided not to voice this out loud. “Who’s chasing you, anyway?” he asked instead.

“Never mind that,” she said vaguely, waving away Link’s question with one slender hand. "Let's get to your training first. She'll be here soon, and I do want to help you. You seemed quite downhearted just now. Archery isn’t so difficult, really; you just need to get the knack for it, and soon you’ll be flying arrows and hitting your target every time.”

 _Speak for yourself,_ Link thought sullenly, before sighing. “All right,” he acquiesced, stepping back and allowing her some space. “If you insist. It’s all yours.”

It didn't come as a surprise to him that she was a dab hand at archery. He had guessed as much, after her previous arrow. The girl demonstrated a couple of shots, describing her motions to him as best as she could while he listened attentively, and in turn he mimicked her actions as best as he could. She was more graceful and lighter on her feet than Ganon had been, and Link found her movements far easier to follow – but he made a mental note never to tell Ganon that, not after he had so begrudgingly given up his free time to help him. Anyway, his spirits were lifting; the archery was somehow, incredibly, looking easier to tackle, rather than impossibly difficult as it had just been before.

After twenty minutes his fingers were burning and the pads of his skin had begun to blister, but he had clearly improved; one of his arrows even stuck! Granted, it only hit the outermost ring, but it had hit _something_ , and that was more than he had ever hoped for after the dismal spiral of thoughts he had been trapped in. The girl smiled appreciatively at his efforts, and his mood had improved so much that he found himself smiling back.

"I knew you could do it!" she said encouragingly. "Your archery isn't terrible by any means; I think that your technique is great, and you've clearly been taught well. May I see your bow for a few moments?"

He complied, handing her the bow and letting his fingers relax. She inspected it thoroughly, running her fingers over the smooth wood and plucking at the string, before handing it back to him with a firm nod.

"I thought as much. There's nothing wrong with your technique; it's just that your bow is too light for you. If you find yourself a heavier one, I'm sure that you'll improve greatly in no time."

"Really?" Link asked, dumbfounded. "Is that all it was? My bow wasn’t right?"

"Perhaps you'd do better with a bit more practise, too," she laughed gently, "but try it. Change your bow and see if you think it’s easier."

"It can't hurt to give it a try," Link agreed, "but where do you even get a new bow? I don't think soldiers are allowed in the armoury unless they get special permission."

“You mentioned that you have to leave by the seventh bell, right? I'm guessing that you're in the Seventh Legion?" Link nodded, and the girl continued. "I'm sure that Commander Reynard will allow you to obtain a new bow, if you ask him. Or," she put a finger to her lips, pursing them and furrowing her brows, as if she was thinking hard, "I could just get you one!"

"Oh, no, it's fine," Link said hurriedly, "I can get one, no problem. You don't have to go to so much trouble."

“It’s no trouble at all! I’ve got access to the armoury, so I can get one for you much quicker than if you went to the Commander for approval. He’s quite a busy man.”

“Yes, I know- wait, you’ve got access to the armoury?”

“I’m a guest, remember? I’ve got some privileges.” she reminded him without hesitation. Link thought that only the most senior officers, the King and Queen had access to the armoury, but he decided to let it slide. It could very well be that the hospitality extended to the guests allowed them to tour the entire castle; he didn't know much about liberties granted to the nobles. “Will you be here at this time next week?”

Link mentally evaluated his timetable, and was pleased when he remembered that lunch was at the same time every day. He nodded again.

“I’ll bring along something for you, then. The one I’ve got in mind is quite-“

“There you are!”

They both whipped around when a clear, assured voice rang through the yard. A tall woman, clothed in Sheikah garb, was striding swiftly towards them; an exasperated frown spreading across her face. She was lean, yet noticeably muscular; with stark white hair tightly braided down her back and a single teardrop painted delicately underneath her left eye. Numerous knives were strapped to her belt, and Link noticed with a jolt that she was directing her disapproving frowns at _him._

“Uh-oh,” the girl whispered, looking at Link with a guilty glance. “There she is!”

The woman came to a stop, scrutinising every inch of him with narrowed eyes. Link wanted to squirm, but didn’t dare. He couldn’t fathom why she was so suspicious of him, or why she was eyeing him like dead meat, but he definitely knew that he was quaking in his boots.

“And who might you be?” she asked, with commanding authority.

Link cleared his throat, trying not to sound as intimidated as he really was. “I’m Link, ma’am, of the Seventh Legion.”

“Hm,” was her only response. She looked at him one final time, before turning to the girl, a hand settling calmly on her hip.

“...Well?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. There seemed to be a silent exchange of words between the two which Link didn’t understand; both of them blinked at different times and made small, weird hand gestures, none of which really made any sense.

Finally the girl yawned, and flapped one hand dismissively in the air. “It was only for a _bit,_ Impa. I was about to return, anyway.”

“You impossible child,” Impa muttered, rubbing at her temples. “I turn my back for one moment, and I find that you've already run off. What in the heavens were you even doing?"

“I was helping my friend!” the girl protested indignantly. “I was showing him how to handle his bow properly.”

“She’s telling the truth, ma’am,” Link offered. “She really did help me with my archery. I’ve improved a lot.”

Impa sighed and glared at the girl. Link had to give it to her; that face was scarier than a Poe’s, but she didn’t back down at all.

_“Hai yaelam fuh?”_

Link jumped, and gaped at Impa, who hadn’t taken notice of his sudden confusion. It took one riddled minute for Link to try to process what she just said; because it definitely wasn't in any language he had ever heard.

“ _Leh,”_ the girl answered, and really; this was getting crazy. _“lmal 'akhbarhal.”_

“Um,” he supplied unhelpfully, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand...”

“Don’t worry yourself,” Impa told him, before plucking the girl from the ground and hauling her over one shoulder in a single motion, as if she weighed a feather. “Now, come. We must continue where we left off, before you decided to try your hand at becoming a runagate.”

“Impa,” the girl whined, somehow crossing her arms across her kidnapper’s back, “do I _have_ to?”

“Yes, you most certainly do.” Impa scolded, nodding curtly at Link before carrying the girl off towards the castle.

The last he saw of the girl was her lazy wave over Impa’s shoulder as they rounded the corner, and Link realised with a jolt that he didn’t even get her name.

* * *

 

 _Dear Mother,_ he began, dipping his quill into the deep black ink as Flynne snored loudly on the bunk above him.

_How is everyone? I hope you're all good. I'm having fun here, but the food isn't as nice as home, and I miss it sometimes. I'm trying to make my own food and so far I think it's going well - although Flynne (one of my friends) got sick after he ate my apple pie...He tried to play it off by pretending the pie was good, but that was before he started vomiting into the toilet. I still feel bad about that, especially because it was fine when I tried it... Maybe I followed your recipe wrong?_

_Training here isn't that bad. I don't see Ganon much, but I've made a couple of friends. Commander Reynard even said you knew him. He told me that Father was the laziest person in his entire cohort, and you used to shout at him for never waking up on time... Ganon didn’t stop laughing for ten whole minutes when I told him. His face went as red as a tomato!_

_My other friend also helped me with my archery, and I've improved! Not by much, but it's something. I hope you’re proud of me. I’ll show you when I come home._

_Everyone’s saying that the Princess is going to visit too, so I might not get time to write tomorrow; we all have to clean up the barracks. I’m kind of excited, since I’ve heard she’s nice, and apparently gives everyone chocolates. Maybe I heard wrong, though. Chocolate is really hard to make._

_I'll try and find some more Sheikah orbs, but if I don't, I'll keep sending letters. I think they’re in shortage, because not many soldiers use them. Actually, it’s probably just the higher-ups who do._

_Anyway, it’s getting late, and I should to get to bed before one of the officers finds out I’m still awake. Next time, I promise I’ll do all the letter-writing in the morning._

_I'll write again soon._

_Love,_

_Link_

_P.S. I told Ganon to eat his vegetables, like you said, but he snorted and threw them away. I tried, though. Honest._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hai yaelam fuh?_ = Does he know?
> 
> _Leh_ = No
> 
>  _lmal 'akhbarhal_ = I haven't told him
> 
> I wonder who Hozai is a descendant of? (hint: I HATE the guy, god)
> 
> Come on, guys. Link's at the age where he's trying to be cool and badass, but he's too sweet, tbh. So many aggressive thoughts, yet he never acts on them? What a sweetheart. I really enjoyed writing him as a teenager with world-ending teenage problems (such as, y'know, COMPLETE PANIC IN THE FACE OF AUTHORITY, and obliviousness), because I go through the same things every day. It's just like taking words out of my brain and vomiting onto paper.
> 
> Don't worry. Link WILL become the powerhouse we all know and love - he just has to work for it. Strength and skill come from diligence!
> 
> Also, he's totally a mama's boy.
> 
> As usual, I love reading your comments and seeing kudos! <3 next chapter: another Terrible Realisation (Link what have you DONE), and the calm before the first storm. Why first? Because this story will become a literal hurricane when everything goes to hell.


End file.
